


Z-Day

by x1The9x9Swordsman0x



Category: Original Work
Genre: Chaos, Death, Dystopia, F/M, Gen, Humanity, Multi, Survival, Survival Horror, Violence, Zombie, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-06-09 17:09:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 40,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6915889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x1The9x9Swordsman0x/pseuds/x1The9x9Swordsman0x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It began as a perfectly normal day in Phoenix, Arizona.  Then everything went wrong.  People began killing and...eating each other.  For Jerry, his only objective was to get out of the city with his family.  But he couldn't.  Jerry is now searching for a safe place that he can start his life over with his fellow survivors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Was a Perfect Day

**Author's Note:**

> This story is very graphic. There is language, gore, mentions of rape, and other mature subjects. This is not for those underage.

Friday, February 21st, 2014 started off like every other day. A bright sun rose over the horizon of the city into the window of Jerry Piner, an executive business man for a prominent ad agency. The breeze that blew in through the window, carrying the beginning of that seventy-seven degree weather that was promised to them, was perfect to wake up to. Despite his misgivings about uprooting his family and moving to Phoenix, Arizona, the view and the weather had been ideal. Rolling over in those white satin sheets, Jerry ran his hand over the empty space beside him in his queen size bed, where the outline of his wife, Katherine, still remained. Lifting his groggy head from the soft pillow that desperately called him to lay his head down and go back to sleep, he could hear the sound of the shower running where his wife was getting ready for her day. Pulling himself from the entrapping sheets, that hung like netting to keep him trapped, he walked to the cracked bathroom door that steam escaped from in a thin line of incorporeal mist. Pushing the door open he glimpsed the hidden beauty behind the frosted glass that was currently busy rubbing that lavender scented shampoo in her hair. Slipping off his pajama pants and boxers he quietly slipped into the shower and gazed over the back of his wife's beautiful frame. Long legs traveled up to her widely curved hips. From there to her thinned out waist up her smooth back and raised slender arms that were tangled in her luscious brunette hair. She had given birth to two of the most wonderful children and she was still gorgeous. Closing the door behind him he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close eliciting a gasp from her. “Oh, did I scare you?” Jerry remarked.

“You know very well what you did,” Katherine retorted, leaning back into his arms. “Kids still asleep?”

“I didn't hear Marian crying on the monitor and I don't hear an elephant herd, so Edward is still asleep.”

“Oh? Some time to ourselves? Maybe we should take advantage of it,” Katherine smiled, turning around and pressing her full lips to his.

“I like the sound of that,” Jerry said, as he caught the coy and seductive look in her eyes. Pressing their lips together once more the sudden crying of a beautiful baby girl is heard over the monitor and brought the mood to a grinding halt.

The two smile as they knew that their spontaneous plans where now canceled. “You should have woken up earlier,” Katherine said, kissing Jerry on the cheek. “Don't worry. We'll finish up tonight.” Sliding the frosted glass door back, releasing a cloud of steam, he grabbed one of the pair of brown towels that hung on the silver bar mounted into the tile to dry off. Draping a robe around his shoulders and tying it off he walked from his room to his infant daughter's.

Opening the door he smiled as the light purple colored walls that his wife had been so adamant at having. After the couple days of painting and sticking up the large butterfly wall stickers, Jerry admitted that the room was perfect. An oak colored crib sat across the room with a small mobile that would slowly turn an entourage of butterflies and teddy bears in a circle. Just barely seen through the light colored bars were two small hands trying desperately to reach the acrobatic creatures above her head. “Hey, there princess,” Jerry said, leaning over the side of the crib. A scruff of brunette hair rests like thin wisps on her head and bright blue eyes stare up at Jerry. She kicked her feet in her light purple sleeper to bring attention to her impatient plea for release. “Ya'know Marian, you keep interrupting mommy and daddy's quiet time together. You psychic or something?” Marian stared at him for a moment before giving him a toothless smile and giggle. “Yeah, you know what you're doing.” Jerry reached down and lifted Marian up into the air with a wide smile spread across his stubble covered features. It didn't matter what kind of day that he was having, just coming home and seeing Marian bouncing in her seat with a wide smile on her face was enough to fix the worst of days.

As Jerry changed Marian's diaper there came the thunder. A pair of little feet slamming on the wood floor and making the picture frames of different family vacations on the wall rattle, threatening to drop from their precarious perch. “Edward is awake,” Jerry said to Marian. “Let's go say good morning.” Closing the snaps on her outfit, she giggled as she was lifted into the air. Coming out of Marian's purple room he saw the figurative fire trails of his son, who was careening down the halls like a jumbo jet maneuvering through the Grand Canyon. “Let's go get him,” Jerry said, before taking off after his son with his daughter in his arms. He held her like she flying through the air as Superman would before bumping her into her brother gaining a squeal from both of the children. Chasing Edward's brown hair covered head and half naked body through the house, around the fine mahogany table in the dining room, and the ornate sofas in the living room.

All the running and chasing halted at once as Katherine came out, dressed in her teal colored scrubs, and scooped Edward into her arms for a little pre-breakfast meal of little boy tummy. Jerry put Marian in her high chair and left to take his own shower as Katherine made breakfast. Scrubbing down with soap and lathering his hair with shampoo he rinsed and sat in the water for a while turning it from hot to cold so it would ease a specific source of discomfort that had been aggravated. Dragging his razor against the grain of his stubble, he smoothed out his features and left the remains of his five o'clock shadow down the drain. Wincing as the sharp metal gave a small cut along his jaw. Brushing his hair to the side with a part going down the right side of his scalp. Black slacks with light gray pin-striping held up by a black belt and a white collared shirt with a crimson tie. Jerry found looking professional was more of an art than it was a skill.

The smell of frying bacon and scrambled eggs called to Jerry from the kitchen. The wafting fragrance beckoning him to enjoy and fill himself with their deliciousness. Marian was content in her chair having filled up on applesauce and now played with her plastic rings that she banged on the table with glee. Edward sat in his booster seat eating and humming his most recent favorite made-up tune. Jerry flipped on the small television that rested on the counter as a news reporter, her hair done up with an ungodly amount of hair spray and make-up meant to keep her from looking pale on camera, came on the screen making the announcements of the morning. “More on this story as it develops,” the reporter said. “Major pharmaceutical companies are rallying behind a new rabies vaccine that is meant to not only prevent humans from contracting the virus; but, potentially cure those that are already suffering symptoms of it.”

“Huh,” Jerry said, droning out the reporter as she continued on to the development and concerns of the new vaccine. “You hear about this?”

Katherine nodded. “Yeah. They sent out shipments a few days ago to the FDA and several of the African countries. The new policy is that we are going to start making it part of the regular health care. I'm gonna be late if I don't head out. Love you.” Katherine kissed him on the cheek as she hurried out the door.

“Possible side-effects of the new rabies vaccine are nausea, feelings of being light-headed, raised blood pressure, and slight agitation. In the world news a case of mass killing was reported in Kenya. Kenya officials are not sure if this was a terrorist attack or a random killing by an unknown religious cult. The attackers were described as being excessively aggre...”

The screen went black, with a small flash and a quiet click, as Jerry turned it off. “Alright Edward, time to get ready. Go get dressed,” he said, jabbing a thumb in the direction of his son's room. Pouring that wonderful, dark, wake-me-up liquid – coffee – into a thermal cup for the drive. He set it on the counter and packed up Marian's bag of diapers and food for her trip to the daycare. “Edward, time to go!” Jerry called. When only silence answered him, he quickly headed around the corner toward his son's room. “Edward, you ready?”

Knocking on the door that had been labeled 'Captain Edward's Battleship' made from construction paper and pipe-cleaners. On the other side of the door was the disaster zone of toys and clothes that had been discarded on the floor instead of back into the toy chest or hamper where they belonged. Posters of military battleships and naval submarines decorated the rich blue colored walls giving the feeling of being in the sea. “Edward?” Jerry peeked his head in looking around the dark room for his son who, at the moment, had disappeared. The drapes by the window fluttered barely moving as if something had brushed them. Jerry slowly walked toward the window, his dress shoes avoiding the toys that jutted up like obstacles attempting to hamper his progress across the room. Reaching his hand out to the curtain and pulling it back ever so gently before something from the closet suddenly burst out and grabbed hold of Jerry's leg tightly letting out a scream. Jerry jumped in shock as he looked down to his son that hugged his leg and smiled up at him. Feeling his heart racing he shook his head and patted Edward on the head. “You got me, Edward. Now go get your backpack. We need to get going.”

Jerry realized, as Edward ran out of the room, that his son had put his shirt on backwards. Shaking his head he didn't bother correcting him as his son's answer was always, “I know.” Buckling Edward into his booster seat and Marian into her car seat, Jerry got into his black BMW for the fifteen minute drive to work. A few spats of heavy traffic at the few intersections slowed the family down; but it was normal for seven thirty in the morning. Edward would point out the window and call out when they passed the ice cream store that everyday he would beg for Jerry to stop and get one for him. Marian stared out the other window and would laugh periodically at the cars that would drive by her view. Jerry loved her simple nature. How she would stare out the window to the wondrous world outside and find it new and exciting.

 

The daycare and preschool was a warm and kid friendly place. If the Crayon picket fence wasn't enough to tell you that, then Jerry didn't know what would. Edward would run off to his friends to join the preschoolers in the larger wing of the two story building. Edward was already learning how to count and read and was the top of his class. Marian would be handed off to her favorite day care worker, Sharon, an older woman with a gift of bring a smile to any child's face. Marian waved her hands around in excitement as she leaned toward Sharon to begin her day of fun. Jerry smiled knowing that Marian's reaction would be the same for him once he came to pick her up after work. “I thought that you had Fridays off, Sharon,” Jerry said.

“Normally I do,” Sharon responded. “But Beth is home sick with the flu and they needed the help.” Jerry nodded as he waved to Marian and stepped back into his car. Reaching for his mug, he found only air and realized that in his hurry to get everyone out the door his early morning coffee, his wake-up fuel as Katherine called it, now stood alone on his kitchen counter. Looking at his silver watch he shook his head knowing there was no time to go back and retrieve it.

 

* * *

 

A quick five minute drive down the road he passed a man that seemed to be stumbling down the sidewalk. Dressed in a sleeveless shirt and a pair rather short shorts, like you would see with one of those marathon runners, his running shoes drug along the concrete, almost like the man were trying to pull himself through muck that held tight to his feet before suddenly releasing its slimy grip. _It's Friday,_ Jerry thought, _I guess some people are getting a head start on the weekend._

His work building was something that most advertisement companies would find to be rather small – only two stories with maybe fifty offices on either floor – but who is going to complain about a brand new building. New air conditioning that would remain quiet and not have a bad rattling noise like the ducts in Jerry's old office, or smell like chemicals from insecticide. Better than the air conditioning, was the executive parking. In an ad agency the earlier you were, the more you were noticed; therefore, the more promotions you got. At this building he got a space up front with his name on it because he was the man in charge, unlike before where it was almost like World War II to get a park spot before the next guy trying to impress the...

BAM!!!

Jerry slammed on the breaks as something hit his car, or he hit something. Stepping out of the car, the little chip in the dash telling the car to repeat that annoying dinging sound, and sees the outstretched arm of a man resting on the fresh black asphalt. Covering his mouth and feeling his stomach starting to flip. “Holy shit,” a man said rushing over. “That guy just ran right out in front of your car without a moment's hesitation.”

Jerry recognized the man that was commenting on the events that had brought them to this place, standing in front of Jerry's space where a man's unmoving body now lay on the burning asphalt in the hot sun, but he couldn't remember his name. _Starts with an 'S'. Was it Sam? Sean?_

“I took a CPR class last year just stand back,” the guy said grabbing the apparently dead man's arms and dragging him out a little from the front of the now dented BMW.

“I should call an ambulance,” Jerry said absently, as he watched CPR guy, having no better name to give him at the moment from forgetting the guy's name, start giving breaths to the unconscious man with a slight billowing of their cheeks. Still standing there and watching helplessly as a small crowd gathered and CPR guy started chest compressions making the unconscious man's head flop back and forth with the brute force of the pressing. Taking a pause from the compression there was the faintest of rasping squeaks that came from the unconscious man's mouth. CPR guy leaned down with one ear at the man's mouth trying to see if his three hour training class had actually paid off or if it was just another waist of money.

The unconscious man's eyes fluttered open slightly and had a small shake of his head. CPR guy raised his head up a little smiling to Jerry, reminding him of one of those dogs that wants to know he did good after bringing back the tennis ball. “I think he's gonna make iUURGGKK!” The once unconscious man pulled himself up with one arm around CPR guy's neck and his teeth bit down on the man's throat releasing a fountain of red mist into the air from his jugular. Even after the first bite, the man continued to bite and tear off flaps of skin and muscle from CPR guy's throat covering his face in sticky blood that bubbled out of the revealed airway of CPR guy.

 

* * *

 

 

The once closely gathered crowd suddenly backed away and took off for their cars to try to get away from the maniac that seemed happily content with chowing down on CPR guy. Jerry, leaving his running car and dinging warning from the open door in the middle of the parking lot, ran inside and rushed up the stairs to the top floor where his executive office awaited him. Rushing passed his secretary and threw open the double doors to his office he paused trying to get his breath. Cherry wood desk dominated the center of the office with matching bookcases on the wall to the right that housed a television, just in case the always busy executive needed a break from his hard work. The window behind his desk was open and let in that comforting breeze that flicked the papers on the desk. Violently trembling, Jerry walked to his desk and picked up the phone and punched the numbers on the flat touch screen. The more rational part of his brain was worried about cracking the screen. An unearthly yowl came from beyond his open office door, prompting Jerry to drop the phone from his ear.

In the doorway, rather disheveled with her hair not pulled back in its skull tight bun and snug-fitted red suit not fully buttoned and missing a sleeve, was Jerry's secretary, Ms. Palmer. “Ms. Palmer quick come inside,” Jerry said, waving her in. “I don't know what's going on, but there's a crazy person down there that's eating people. Make sure you lock the door.” Jerry reached down and picked up the phone. His eye briefly fluttering up Ms. Palmer's freshly shaven legs. He had hired her because she was a person that took her professional appearance very seriously; but now, her walk seemed rather sluggish and nothing like her normal 'look at me' saunter. Jerry noticed that despite her flawlessly shaved legs that her foot was actually sitting crooked when she put her weight on it, revealing the bones to have snapped in two. “Ms. Palmer?” Jerry asked, seeing the dull, yet hungry, gaze that his secretary currently had fixated on him.

Ms. Palmer's jaw dropped and opened her mouth in an unnatural fashion, like a snake unhinging its jaw to consume its meal, and released a terrifying, unearthly yowl that made Jerry's bones shiver in fear. Despite having a broken foot, Ms. Palmer lunged forward all the while screaming that abyssal yowl. Jerry, in a panic, stepped back and tripped over his office chair just as Ms. Palmer vaulted over the desk and right out the window. Her terrifying yowl slowly faded until it abruptly cut off and there was nothing. Visibly shaken, Jerry pulled himself up to his knees and slowly looked out the window, as if he would see Ms. Palmer hanging on by her long, red, claw-like fingernails and he would suddenly end up like CPR guy. In a pool of his own blood.

Ms. Palmer's body lay crumpled on the sidewalk. Her body not moving and her red suit still snugly fitted around her waist and hips. Jerry was glad that he couldn't see any closer as the very mental image was already making him nauseous. In fact, the next thing he saw was breakfast of eggs and bacon with bile being violently vomited into his brushed chrome trashcan.

Rushing in from the hall came a slightly fatter man, that for some reason Jerry immediately knew as Richard, and slammed the door closed. Huffing and puffing from his dash down the hall, his white pin striped shirt was drenched with sweat. The beaded flecks of water on his brow he wiped off with his blue and gray tie. “I don't know what the fuck is going on; but, people are killing each other out there!” Richard said. As if to bring emphasis to what he was saying, something on the other side of the door banged against it shaking Richard.

“Help me barricade it!” Jerry yelled, pushing on his cherry red desk. The two of them drove the heavy piece of furniture against the wooden door sealing it from any intruder. “What the hell is going on?” Jerry asked rhetorically.

“Maybe there's something on the TV about it,” Richard suggested still puffing from exertion.

Rifling through the drawers of the desk, Jerry grabbed the black remote and pressed the on button bringing the dark television to life. There was no need for any channel surfing as the emergency broadcast had already taken over the stations. “We are getting reports of mass hysteria and murder taking place in just about every major city in the U.S.” the reporter said. The outlook behind the reporter wasn't good as people ran in terror of something that was never really seen and fires burned freely in houses and cars. The reporter himself would keep looking about in a slight panic. “At this time the emergency contact numbers have been flooded with calls, the National Guard has been dispatched to help support local law enforcement; but, it's strongly suggested that everyone remain indoors and... AHH! OH MY GOD! HELP!” The reporter was attacked by what seemed to be the runner that Jerry passed only a little while ago. The camera fell over showing that the reporter had been out on his own with just a tripod camera to record his broadcast. The reporter's screams filled the room as his legs were seen kicking just on screen.

“Fuck that!” Richard said in response to the reporter's suggestion.

“You said it. Let's get the hell out of here,” Jerry said, looking out his window. His BMW sat right in front of the main entrance like a steed waiting for its knight to return so that they might ride off into the sunset. The silent rumble of the engine made the car shake gently. “My car is just out there. I think we can get to it. The stairs head right to the front.” Richard nodded quickly making his set of double chins jiggle sporadically. Pulling the desk away from the door, Jerry slowly peeked out into the hall. Papers, with drawings and client information, were scattered around the carpeted floor of the narrow corridor. Jerry went first, his eyes darting about the darkened hall to catch a glimpse of the unseen predator in the shadows. The pair rushed to the stairwell and charged straight through the door. Down the stairs in a hurried sprint that nearly sent Richard down the steps head first.

Jerry slowly pushed the door open to the lobby. The tiled front that spanned from the shattered glass double doors to the stone receptionist desk was covered with pools and smears of blood that lead deeper into the building or out toward the parking lot. Stepping out with great hesitation the pair made their way to the edge of the door way. Jerry paused hearing something over in the darkened hallway. His eyes adjust to the strange twilight that the lack of light had created within the lobby. In the darkest corner, a group of people sat huddled together and covered in blood. A woman lay on the ground her head having fallen back so that she stared at Jerry and Richard with wide, pain filled eyes. The huddled crowd currently were pulling out different organs from her torn open stomach, like they were a third grade science class having dissected a frog. She raised her hand weakly to them and opened her mouth to cry for help; but, only a gurgling whisper came from her throat. He gave her an apologetic glance before slipping out the front door doing his best not to draw attention to himself as he stepped on the shattered glass fragments.

Jerry quickly jumped into the driver's seat of the BMW and slammed the door. He pressed the button to unlock the car doors for Richard to make it in as the fat little man rushed around the car's front bumper. Just as he got to the door he was suddenly drug down and Jerry could hear his screams of fear and pain as well as Richard banging on the side of the car. A blood hand rose up, grabbing at the smooth glass window and left behind a streaked bloody hand print. Throwing the car into drive Jerry peeled out of the parking lot and drove out onto the street. Leaving behind the carnage that was happening in his former place of business.

 

* * *

 

Swerving out onto the near clear road he quickly pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial for Katherine. His wife and kids were the only things on his mind now and he had to get to them before something bad happened. “All lines are busy. If you would like to leave a message, press one.” the automated voice said through the small speaker.

“Damn it! Come on!” Jerry said hanging up and dialing again. He yelled in frustration as the same message was played. Jamming his thumb down on the one he quickly began to speak into the phone. “Katherine! I don't know what's going on, but everything fucking went to hell in a hand basket. I'm on my way to get Edward and Marian. I'll be there as soon as I can. Barricade yourself into a room or something and don't let anyone in that seems like they're out of their minds.” He looked up narrowly avoiding a rolling truck that was consumed in fire. The once busy street was now cluttered with debris and abandoned cars. People run in fear of the slow moving groups that would set upon anyone that they managed to get their hands on. The once peaceful drive had turned into something right out of a Freddie Kruger nightmare. Looters taking advantage of any unmanned stores and robbing them blind of TV's, DVD players, and cash. Mayhem only began to describe what the city of Phoenix was turning into.

The approach to the daycare was anything, but graceful. Crashing into the brightly colored crayon fence that went around the perimeter of the yard, Jerry skidded to a halt by the front door of the preschool. The windows were dark and there wasn't anything moving inside. Jerry rushed the door and, for a moment, it seemed that he might rip the door from the hinges as he fell through.

Running down the hall like a mad man he would glance into each school room in the hopes of seeing a large crowd of kids huddled together in the back of the room with two or three teachers trying to keep them calm; but, the further in he went the worse it got. Classroom brightly colored with posters of numbers or letters to teach the students math and reading and blood smeared on the floors and walls. “Edward!” he would cry, praying that he would hear his son calling back to him or that he would see him running down the hall. Room after room he checked and each one just a bigger and bigger pool of blood. There were no bodies. Nothing left of the eight hundred preschoolers that should have been there; or the hundred and fifty staff members that were there to watch over them. Every room and closet opened and every one of them empty. Even the gym, which was supposed to be the gathering place for all the students, was empty. Sprinting down the long corridor that connected the preschool to the daycare, Jerry crashed through the door and swept his eyes over the toy-filled room. “Marian! Edward!”

As soon as he stepped into the room, Jerry wished that he hadn't. The once cheerful room, decorated in bright colors and cartoon-ish characters, was more like a slaughter house that you might find in a butcher shop or a horror movie. Blood was splattered over the walls, floors, and ceilings. Bits of bodies were strewn about like crumbs left after eating pie with a flaky crust. Jerry looked about in shock. The sheer brutality of it. Tears welled up in his eyes and he fell to his knees, soaking his slacks in blood. “Marian. Edward,” he whispered their names in grief, knowing there was no way they survived. “I'm sorry.” He doubled over as the emotions took a very physical pain in his body.

A clicking noise made Jerry look up from his pool of grief. A man stumbled in dressed in an overall suit with a smiling bright yellow sun embroidered on the left side of his chest just under the word 'Janitor.' Blood covered the Janitor's face, like a messy eater, the entire front of his overalls like he had been bathing in his kills, and he was currently looking around while smashing his teeth together to make an audible clicking noise. Jerry remained completely still, praying that he would go unnoticed. _When the world has become hell, God isn't listening,_ a voice in his head stated, and like a dinner bell had been rung, the Janitor stopped and turned toward Jerry. The Janitor crashed through the small, child-size chairs in a B-line for Jerry. Slipping on the slick floor, Jerry felt the sticky liquid soak through his shirt and paint his back in crimson.

The Janitor wasted no time in taking advantage of Jerry's prone state. He leaped onto Jerry his teeth biting at the open air with a soft clicking sound. A pungent smell emanated from the Janitor's mouth as he breathed out a raspy gust of air into Jerry's face. The only thing that was holding this maniac back from feasting on Jerry's neck was Jerry's forearm placed squarely under the Janitor's jaw and chomping teeth. Grasping for anything that he could use as a weapon, Jerry found a toy phone, one of the ones that the happy little face on the front and the eyes would move when you rolled it across the floor, and smashed it against the side of the Janitor's head. The Janitor fell to the side and seemed to have trouble getting up on his jello like legs. Jerry quickly got to his feet and picked up one of the many scattered children's chairs and brandished it like a make shift club. That voice in the back of head, that Jerry quickly found to be his survival instinct given auditory form, screamed at him, _That's the bastard that killed your kids! Don't let him leave here alive!_ Letting out a scream of rage, that sounded unnervingly like the shrieks that he had been hearing these mad men had been yelling at him, Jerry charged forward swinging the small chair like it was a Louisville Slugger. One of the metal feet pierced through the cheek of the Janitor; but his hands still stretched out grasping at him. Pulling the chair free, along with a line of blood and spit that flicked across the floor and wall. Jerry swung again, this time catching his attacker right through the temple. The foot of the metal leg cracking the bone beneath the surface of the skin. The Janitor stumbled and dropped down to his hands and knees. Jerry stood over him and began to rain blow after blow of the chair down onto the Janitor's head and back splattering blood and brains on the floor and himself.

Dropping the chair by his now unmoving assailant, Jerry took a moment longer to look around the decimated daycare before leaving to his waiting car. Pulling the door closed he holds in a sob trying his best to keep his composure while calling his wife once more. “All lines are busy. If you would like to leave a message, press one.”

“Katherine,” Jerry said, his voice threatening to break. “I'm... uh... I'm on my way to you now. I... The kids... they didn't make it. I'm coming for you now. Just... please... please stay alive.” He hung up the phone and wiped the tears from his face and focused on getting to St. Luke's Medical Center. A few other cars were driving down the roads now in a mad dash to find safety from the crazies. A pick-up truck swerved this way and that trying to shake loose the unwanted passengers that were beating on the windows and roof of the cab. “Christ. It just gets worse the further in you go.” The military barricades that had been put up to try to funnel the traffic out of the city slowly lessened. Near the edges soldiers fired at crazies that were trying to jump the barrier; but, soon what used to be a barricade on every street became every other street, then every third. Pretty soon there were no barricades at all. Blood covered the ground and vehicles meant to protect against the crazies. Bodies littered the ground of those that had been torn to shreds and eaten.

Slowly stopping at a pile up of cars he chewed his lip trying to think of a way around that wouldn't take another twenty minutes to get to the hospital. A woman ran up slamming full force into the driver side door. She left behind a bloodied smear before stepping back to get ready for another charge. Jerry looked around seeing that the crazies were coming for him and quickly flicked up his middle finger before slamming the gas down as far as it would go. He mounted the curb driving through several of the slowly moving crazies that attempted to stop him from getting away. Jerry turned the wheel hard to avoid a small car that had rammed into the brick building in front of him. The man inside fighting desperately to keep the woman in the passenger seat off of him and undo his seat belt. Jerry didn't stop to see if the man was successful or not in his escape. Jerry's mind was just focused on getting to his wife. “Almost there,” Jerry said to himself, holding onto the wheel as the force of the turn threatened to launch him into the passenger side of the car.

His heart leaped into his throat as he saw a burning garbage truck rolling free by itself down the road toward him. Gritting his teeth he turned into the glass front of a large mall. The black paint getting scraped and chipped from the shards of glass that rained down on the BMW. Of course, Jerry hadn't thought about the kiosks that dominated the middle of the wide lane. Bracing himself, he drove through hair supplies, cell phones, food, and displays of every kind of piercing you could think of. To his relief, his tires didn't explode and the next door was just up ahead. Jerry turned on the cleaners and wipers to try and wash off the frosting that had been smeared over the windshield. Crashing through the next set of glass doors revealed an almost empty parking lot. Driving like a mad man he headed straight for the street.

The next turn made Jerry slam both feet onto the brake, making the car skid in a brilliant display of smoke and burnt rubber. A massive mob of crazies stood there almost like they were expecting him to arrive. Jerry stared them down from the somewhat safe distance that he had between him and them. When the first crazy came at him, Jerry wasn't sure what to do. The road that they were blocking was the fastest route to St. Luke's Medical Center. He could even see it's large building just around the bend. The crowd thinned out and gathered speed as they charged Jerry.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself Jerry stomped on the pedal, pinning it to the floor. The BMW's engine revved and let out a high pitch hum as the tire squealed trying to get traction on the asphalt that was slick with blood. Speeding toward the mob he barreled into several of the crazies that were clawing at his car, sending them over his hood and roof. A woman running right at the BMW launched over the hood after being hit and her head was driven right through the windshield. Her hand and bloody stump clawed at the glass trying to push through to grab hold of Jerry. Her red hair swinging this way and that as she chomped her teeth at him to get just a mouthful of his flesh. Jerry swerved back and forth trying to dislodge the woman in his window. Making the last turn to the straight shot to the medical center the woman was flung from the car, half of her face being filleted by the glass collar that was forcefully pulled over her head. A large section of her scalp flopped onto the dash board while the rest of her spun through the air and her body snapped in half around a lamp post. Jerry didn't stop to see if she was going to get back up. All that mattered was getting to the medical center in time.

The parking lot was crowded with cars that had arrived for people to be treated. Several had been overturned from ramming into other parked cars. Several of the cars had crashed into the front of the medical center making entry through the front out of the question. The cars were still burning like a raging inferno turning the white stucco walls black from smoke. Driving around to the back of the hospital to the emergency exit, there were ambulances that sat with their rear doors hanging open. The lights of the ambulance flashed with red and blue, light scanning search lights trying to find anyone that might be injured. Pulling out his cell phone once again he pressed redial, praying for a miracle. The phone began to ring. _Finally, a line,_ Jerry said to himself.

“Hello?” a quiet voice said.

“Katherine? Thank God. Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. I locked myself in one of the patient rooms. I can't get out. There's someone out there killing people.”

“It isn't just one. There are a bunch of them. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole damn city wasn't filled with them by now. I'm coming to get you. Just wait for me and I'll be there. I don't know if I'm going to get another line to contact you. I love you.”

“I love you too. Are the kids okay?”

Jerry felt a lump in his throat that kept him from answering right away. “The kids are safe. Right now you need to focus on staying alive. Where are you?”

“I'm on the eighth floor. Room 813. Please hurry.” He hung up the phone and tossed it in the passenger seat. Now that he had a chance to calm down he didn't want to have it go off and attract the crazies. Stepping out of the car in very slow movements, so that he didn't announce himself to anything that might be in the area. He walked around to the back of his car and opened the trunk. Reaching inside he pulled out the small tire iron, that he had used to fix a flat with a few months ago, to defend himself with. For some reason there were significantly less cars as the emergency exit than there were at the front. He was left with his white undershirt after pulling off his tie and collared shirt, that were splattered with blood. Wielding the tire iron in one hand, he snuck up to the main doors. The glass and aluminum doors would close and hit a gurney that was stuck between the two before opening again for a few seconds and trying again to close. The gurney itself was covered in blood from the body of a man strapped down to it. Blood covered his clothes and face and a large amount of his intestines had been pulled out and hung from the side of the gurney dripping blood onto the cement. When the doors opened again, Jerry tried to sneak into the building. The darkness of the hospital made the already eerie corridors seem all the more sinister. The darkened shadows might hold anything within their hidden corners.

The man on the gurney suddenly sprung to life growling and chomping his teeth a Jerry. The man struggled and thrashed to break free of the straps that held him down. Jerry let out a yelp and stumbled away from the man that tried to break free of his restraints. The corridors were dark, but the emergency signs, spelling out 'EXIT,' basked the halls in green light. He took deep breaths fearing that his own heartbeat might alert the crazies to where he was with how loud it was pounding in his ears.

Walking to the elevators he pressed the button and waited for the sound of the machine inside the wall to register that he had pressed it. Of course, that never happened. The power was out and the hospital generators would go toward more important things, like life support. “Stairs it is,” Jerry said to himself softly, more to calm his nerves and hear a voice than anything else. He moved down the hall trying to will his eyes into having night vision so that he could see in the dark. An unearthly wail echoed down the hall and Jerry pressed himself into the doorway of a locked utility closet. Clutching the tire iron in both hands he slowly peeked around the corner. The end of the hallway was dark and the only sound was the beating of his own heart in his ears and his hushed breathing.

Across from him sat one of the black boards with arrows pointing in different directions, so that others would know where different rooms were. One in particular caught his attention right away. “Cafeteria,” he whispered.

 _They have knives in the cafeteria. Those would do a whole lot more than a little tire iron,_ the voice in Jerry's head said. Looking both directions to make sure that the crazies weren't waiting for him to step out into the open before leaping on their next easy meal. Jerry plastered himself up against the off-white walls when the florescent lights above him suddenly flickered to life before going dark once again. For the brief moment the light had been on, it had illuminated a picture of a doctor smiling warmly at the person that would be standing there. Jerry's heart wouldn't slow down as he was sure that he was done for when he saw that face staring at him.

 

* * *

 

 

The cafeteria was probably worse than the corridors of the hospital. The random flicker of light blinded Jerry for a moment before everything went dark and only the glow of the exit sign would reveal the distraught array of tables and chairs that lay scattered about the linoleum covered dining hall. No crazies in sight for the moment, which was not much of a relief since that only meant that they were lurking somewhere else. Swallowing, he began his short journey from the cafeteria entrance to the kitchen. Pushing on the brushed stainless steel door, that swung open without even the smallest of sounds, opened the way to the oven and stove filled room that would cook every meal for the patients in attendance for the hospital.

Surprisingly, this room was impeccably clean compared to the other rooms and corridors that Jerry had been in. When he walked around the corner that was a different story though. Jerry covered his mouth as he felt the dry heaves starting to bring up the little breakfast that he had eaten that morning. The sound that came out of his mouth sounded similar to the noise someone would hear late at night when a cat is coughing up a fur-ball. One of the volunteer cooks was lying outstretched on the floor, resting in a pool of her own blood. Her dull, lifeless eyes stared up at the tiled ceiling and her mouth was opened only slightly like you might see on an episode of Law and Order or another murder case show. However, that wasn't the worst of it. The fact that she had been torn completely in half, her torso lying on the floor while her legs and waist sat on one of the stainless steel counters, and her intestines strung between the two like by some miracle she would pull herself back together.

Jerry quickly turned away trying to get a hold of his dry heaving. He set the tire iron on the steel counter with a small clatter as he swallowed again and again trying to get rid of the acidic taste in his mouth. A low groan silenced the heaves. Jerry quickly picked up the tire iron and slowly stepped around the counter space. A man dressed in another cooks uniform stood at the far end of the kitchen and seemed to stare off into nothing. Slowly stepping forward, Jerry held a tight grip on his bludgeoning weapon. He wet his lips not sure if he would be able to swing on the man. His leg brushed against a small pot resting on the bottom rack of the shelves below the counter. The pot fell the short three inches to the to the floor and clattered about like it was its own one man band.

The cook's head lifted up and slowly turned to the sound that had droned off into silence. Jerry cursed under his breath and all hesitation disappeared when he heard that unearthly yowl once again. The man's jaw stretched open like Ms. Palmer's had when seeing him, like a snake unhinging its jaw to eat. The cook charged and Jerry shoved the iron bar sideways into his mouth. “Try to bite me with no teeth, fucker,” Jerry grunted, as he planted his foot in the cook's chest and shoved him away. The cook's teeth were ripped from his jaw and rattled on the floor like beads from a broken necklace. The cook stumbled back, not even trying to keep himself on his feet, and crashed to the linoleum floor. Jerry ran forward releasing a screech, a lot like the one that the crazies had been using, before driving the flattened end through the cook's skull. Panting and stepping back, Jerry looked out into the dining room to see if the noise had attracted anyone or anything else. Looking down to the now motionless cook, Jerry couldn't help but wonder if, at one time, the man had actually been pleasant to talk to. He seemed to have one of those friendly faces, despite the now offset eyes and toothless mouth. A face that someone might look forward to seeing every day. The lines around his cheeks hinted that he may have had a good sense of humor.

The tire iron stuck out of the man's forehead like he was some unicorn with a bent horn. Not sure that he was going to find a knife in the dull silver kitchen. Grasping the iron hook, Jerry attempted to free the tire iron from the man's head; but, was forced to stop when pulling on the iron bar made a soft suction noise with every pull. His stomach would threaten to start going into dry heaves again. Rifling through the many drawers in the kitchen he was dismayed at the lack of cutlery. Ripping open the dishwasher he was rewarded with three chef knives. The blade on each knife was eight inches long and stamped with the label stainless steel. “Let's just hope I don't have to test that statement,” Jerry said to himself again. He shoved one of the knives into his belt by his hip and kept the other two in his hands. He smiled at his luck when he found a roll of electrical tape and a wooden push broom in a utility closet. Jerry quickly made himself a log distance weapon by unscrewing the broom handle and taping two of the knives to one end giving it a two-pronged look. “Eat your heart out Bear Grylls,” Jerry chuckled. “You couldn't make a better weapon than this if you tried.”

With his make-shift spear pointing out ahead of him, Jerry looked like a hunter ready for the kill. Stepping out into the dining area, with much more confidence now that he had a weapon, Jerry began the search for the stairs. It seemed that he wasn't the only one that thought of taking them though. A bloody hand print was left on the small window in the door by some frightened person just trying to make it out of the nightmare. Jerry pushed on the door only to find that it was blocked by something on the other side. Using the window he looked down at the base of the door and could see the mangled and bloodied body of an old woman sitting against the door. It had probably been her hand print left on the door. Bracing himself against the door, Jerry slowly began to push the door open. With one eye on the stairs and the other on the woman that now lay prostrate on the floor, Jerry stepped into the darkened stairwell. If the corridors had become sinister in the darkness, then the stairwell had become down right terrifying. Soft green light would point out where the door to the next floor was; but every step between one floor and another was filled with a thick, almost unnatural darkness.

With the front of his spear facing in front of him, and a small prayer to God, Jerry placed his foot on the first step and started to climb. He wasn't sure if the lack of noise was something to be grateful for or frightened of. A hospital in normal situations would be filled with pages to doctors, phones ringing off the hook, doctors talking to patients, patients screaming at doctors, and somewhere down a distant hall the sound of a floor buffer.

The painted number eight on the wall, and the severe burning sensation in his legs, told Jerry that he had arrived at the eighth floor. The chaos was greatly lessened this high up in the building. Gurneys and tall stands for fluid bags populated the hall in front of the exit. Walking out he crossed the hall and looked over the board giving directions to the different room numbers. Traveling to the left where the arrow pointed, Jerry would pause by every corner and peak around to see if one of the crazies was lurking around the bend. To his relief he had yet to come across one. A banging announced the presence of someone else in the area. “Come on pretty. I know you're in there. Come on out and play,” a man said, before banging on a door again. “I've been away for so long I'm not even sure what a woman feels like.” Peeking around the corner, Jerry could see a middle age man beating on a door with a fire extinguisher. He was dressed in an orange jumpsuit and a broken set of handcuffs hung from his wrist. “Open the fucking door, bitch!” Counting down the doors Jerry was horrified to realize that the criminal was trying to break down the door to room 813. “Just because I'm a rapist doesn't mean I don't know how to make you feel good! All those other bitches were loving it when I made them moan!”

Jerry saw red as he watched the man try to break through the solid wood door and violate his wife. “Hey, Asshole!” Jerry yelled, stepping out into the hall.

The criminal turned seeing Jerry and gave him a wide grin. “You ain't exactly my type; but, beggars can't be choosers.” The criminal pulled out a shiv, made from a piece of broken mirror, and rushed at Jerry. The criminal didn't even slow down when Jerry lifted the spear and shoved right through the chest of that orange jumpsuit. Not expecting the amount of force that there was, Jerry stumbled back and vaulted the criminal over his head. The man dropped to the ground with a loud thud, like a large bag of potatoes being discarded into a dark pantry. The make-shift spear sticking out of the criminal's chest, the weight of it making it sag off to one side lazily, the stainless-steel blades completely buried in the man's flesh. The criminal stared at him for a moment still trying to kill Jerry before he died, a trickle of blood dripping from his mouth. A scream from one of the crazies echoed down the hall once again; but, this one was close. Jerry scrambled to his feet and tried to pull his spear out of the criminal's chest. The blades, however, had gotten lodged in the criminal's ribcage and Jerry only succeeded in making the criminal's head jerk around like a broken yo-yo attached to a string. Looking up Jerry saw the old woman from down the stairs stumbling toward him, her organs barely hanging by the tubes that connected them to the other organs. Behind her was a doctor with one arm completely torn off, and a janitor dragging a mop behind him like he were still trying to clean.

Abandoning the spear Jerry ran to the door and started pounding on it with his palm. “Katherine! Katherine open the door! Open the door!” The bolt slid out from its locked place and the door swung open. Katherine stood there with wide, frightened eyes. Jerry rushed in and slammed the door closed. Throwing the deadbolt back in place the sound of a body crashed against the thick wood. Jerry pulled Katherine to him and held on tight.

“Jerry,” Katherine said quietly, “what's happening?”

“I don't know,” Jerry replied, taking Katherine's face in his hands. “But we're going to make it through this. I promise. Is there another way out of here?”

“The door is the only way in or out.”

“What about the fire escape?” Jerry rushed to the window and pushed it open. The wind blew over Jerry carrying with it a burning smell from the city on fire. Entire buildings were engulfed in flames and black smoke so thick that it made the morning seem like it was evening. Looking to the left he could see the fire escape about thirty feet away; but, the only way to it was a narrow ledge that ran right to it from the window. “We can make it.”

“Jerry what if we fall? What'll happen to Edward and Marian?”

“If we stay here then there won't be any chance for them. It's our only shot.” Stepping out onto the narrow ledge, Jerry pressed himself up against the wall as much as he could. The voice in head screaming, _Don't look down! Don't look down!_ Didn't keep his mind from imagining the drop behind him. Scooting his feet one after the other in an awkward shuffle. Turning back to the open window, Katherine had one foot on the ledge and leaned out to see the car littered parking lot below. “No. You look at me. Keep your eyes on me.” Jerry held out his hand to her. She grasped it so tight that Jerry was worried that his fingers might break. The wind beat harshly against the couple on the narrow ledge, grasping anything that they could use for leverage from plummeting to the asphalt below. If the day hadn't made a turn for the worse, Jerry might have commented on how clean the outside of the windows looked.

One room over and another to go. The movement from inside of the dark room made Jerry look at the crazy man that ran head long into the window. Jerry jumped as the crazy hit the pane of glass and bounced off into the darkness of the room. A series of cracks appeared where the man's skull hit the glass. Rushing passed before the crazy could get up for another charge they made it to the fire escape. Jerry went over first and then helped his wife over the black metal. Rushing down the metal stairs, there were a few times when Jerry nearly dove head first down the steep steps. The ladder was all the way down to the asphalt, meaning that it wasn't just them that had come up with the idea. “The car is just over there,” Jerry said pointing to the scratched and dented to hell BMW.

“We can run for it. They're slow from what I've seen. Did you leave the doors unlocked?”

Jerry hadn't even thought about it. He wasn't sure if he had or not. If they were being chased, and the doors were locked then that would mean trouble for both of them. Fishing the keys out of his pocket he aimed the little remote at the car praying that it worked. The lights flashed for a moment as a signal that the doors were now open and waiting for them to enter. Jerry went first climbing down the ladder and waited at the bottom for his wife. The kitchen knife in hand he kept the building against his back. _They can't sneak up on you from through the wall,_ the voice in his head told him. Katherine dropped down to the ground, and they ran, hand in hand, to the car. Jerry jumped and slid over the hood of the car, like he had seen in all of those cop shows he used to watch. Katherine slid into the passenger seat and quickly locked the door keeping an eye out for the crazies.

Jerry jumped into the driver seat, slammed the key into the ignition, and quickly drove off. Katherine sighed in relief before turning to the back seat. “Jerry,” she said quietly in horror, “Where are the kids?” Jerry remained silent and focused on the road ahead of him. “Jerry?” Katherine's voice had elevated as the panic started to set in. Jerry blinked through the tears that were now rolling down his face. He couldn't say it. He would break down if he said it; but, he didn't need to. Katherine knew. Seeing the tears running down Jerry's face she knew that their children wouldn't be joining them. Katherine covered her mouth and doubled over in the seat. She sobbed trying to hold it in. Jerry beat his hand against the steering wheel turning it red.

“We have to get home and get supplies. Food, water, anything that we can use. We have to get out of the city,” Jerry said.

Katherine nodded and sat back up her eyes still glassy. She pulled her seat belt on and looked to Jerry. “Put your seat belt on,” she said. She would always remind him of it. He quickly reached over his shoulder and pulled the strap over his chest and buckled it in with a secure click. Before all of this it would have bugged him to have her always reminding him. Now, it was a brief reprieve of normalcy that distracted from the current reality. “Everything was fine this morning. Why did all of this happen?”

“I don't know; but, we'll figure a way through this.” Looking over to Katherine he caught something driving up behind them in the passenger side mirror. A large bus was just barreling through the cars that they were having to swerve around. “Looks like they had the same idea we did. Hang on, I'm gonna let them get in front of us so that we can follow them.” Putting a slight amount of pressure on the brake, Jerry slowed the car and let the bus catch up to them before pulling off into a shallow alcove. Looking to the bus as it passed, the couple were horrified to see that most of the passengers were attacking several others, to include the driver. The people banged on the windows for an escape and their silent screams gave notice to the hell inside. An old woman, one of those nice grandmother-types that people would imagine with a tray of cookies or a purse full of caramel candies, grabbed hold of the driver and pulled him from his seat. The wheel of the bus turned freely and sharply... toward the car. Jerry tried to swerve away from the rolling battering ram; but, it was too late. The bus caught the car and drove it straight into a pile of cars that had piled up into one another. The bus continued on, leaving the destroyed BMW behind. The front of the car crushed in like a tin can.

Jerry slowly raised his head from the large airbag that had protected him from head butting the steering wheel. Katherine groaned and held her head from the sudden impact. “Are you okay?” Jerry asked. Katherine nodded and unclipped her seat belt. “We aren't going anywhere in this now. We're gonna have to go on foot.” Jerry stepped out first, leaving the door open. Rushing around to his wife, while keeping an eye out for the crazies, he only half realized that he had pulled out the knife from his belt.

“Jerry, how are we gonna get through the city with those things everywhere?”

“Quietly.” Jerry took Katherine's hand and led her down the street to a nearby alley. After inspecting and seeing that there was no one there they rushed down it cutting across the block to the next street over. Jerry skidded to a halt when he saw a man bent over and eating sloppily at something in his hand. The black apron that the man wore revealed that he worked in the nearby restaurant. The back door still hanging open for anyone to see the spectacle. A small, furry body was sitting in front of the man, that grunted and slurped at the meal in front of him. It was probably some stray that would sit in the alley waiting for some scraps to get thrown his way.

Passing the knife to Katherine, Jerry picked up one of the many boards from the pallets left in the alley and held it like a baseball bat. Throwing everything he had into the first swing, he knocked the man down and proceeded to rain down blow after blow on his red haired head. When Jerry was satisfied that the man wasn't going to get back up he turned back to Katherine. Tossing the board away he stumbled back toward her. Katherine smiled before it changed to horror. Before she could scream, Jerry whirled about seeing another crazy right on him. She was a woman, who it was obvious had gotten some implants, leaping toward him and was poised to take a bite right out of Jerry's neck.

A gunshot rang out and a perfect hole appeared in the middle of the woman's forehead, rocking her head back. Jerry stood there trembling for a few moments more trying to figure out if he was dead or not. There wasn't any pain and there didn't seem to be a white light. Turning around, he saw his wife staring wide-eyed at an older black man holding a rifle and Jerry now in his sights. Two soldiers backed up the older man with a rifle pointed out toward the street and another had a shotgun pointed at Katherine. “You one of them?” the man said. Jerry quickly shook his head. “You either start talkin' or I'll blow your fucking head off.”

“We're not one of them,” Katherine said rushing to Jerry's side. The man grunted and lowered his rifle as the others did.

“Drop the knife ma'am,” the older man said. Katherine quickly obliged and held onto Jerry's arm. The older black man had that military look to him. Well muscled, short crew cut, a scowl that screamed, 'Just try it.' A vest of pouches that could hold anything. He was everything that you would imagine a soldier to be; but, none of that could be taken seriously with the black, 'got bullets?' t-shirt that he was wearing. The two men behind him were dressed in the classic military camouflage and belts that would be expected of a soldier. “I need you both to strip down.”

“What?” Jerry asked. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I need to know that neither of you are carrying any weapons or devices that might put us in harm's way. Now you two either strip or we fire.”

Jerry got ready to start arguing before Katherine patted his arm. Sighing the two of them stripped down. Jerry was uncomfortable with the fact he was being checked intently for anything that might be a weapon. He could only imagine the way that Katherine felt with her face turning bright red and attempting to cover herself with her arms. “They're clean,” one soldier said tossing back their clothes. They hastily got redressed and looked between the three of them.

“I'm sorry about that,” the older man said. “honestly I am; but, my friends and I don't know if this is a terrorist attack or what. We don't know who to trust or who's the enemy. My name's Roy. The man behind you is Jack and the one with the hurt leg is Max.”

“I'm Jerry. This is my wife Katherine,” Jerry said. “So the military doesn't know what's going on either?”

“I didn't say that. I was discharged from the military five years ago. I don't know what the hell's going on. All I know is that I'm shooting anything that I think is a crazy.”

“Will you take us with you?” Jerry asked.

“We're headed to the military base in Yuma. But it wouldn't be right to strand you guys out here on your own. Either of you know how to shoot?”

“Not really.”

“Then you best stay between us, with Max, until we can get back to the Humvee.” Roy headed to the opening to the street with Jack, each of them looking up and down the street for any signs of danger. Max hobbled up panting.

“You're bleeding! Bad,” Katherine said, kneeling down by Max's leg.

“He nearly got it blown off with a rogue grenade,” Jack said.

“We need to get this patched up before you bleed to death,” Katherine said, looking to Roy and Jack. “There's a clinic on the next block over. If I can get some gauze and some needle and thread I can keep him from bleeding out.”

Jack looked to Roy. “If he doesn't get help soon, we'll be dragging a corpse.”

Roy nodded. “Jack you go with Katherine and get the supplies. Bring her back here so that we can try to have Max loose as little blood as possible.”

“Whoa, wait,” Jerry said, “I'm not okay with splitting up from my wife.”

“Jerry, I need you here to keep pressure on the wound,” Katherine said. “If you don't it won't matter if we were to get the holy grail.”

“And I need to keep my hands free to take out any crazies that come around,” Roy added.

“Don't worry. I promise nothing will happen to her as long as I'm breathin',” Jack said. Jerry didn't like the idea; but he knew there wasn't any other way. Jack gave Katherine his pistol and Max did the same for Jerry. “Don't use it unless you have to,” Jack said. “The crazies are drawn to noise, and a gunshot is like the dinner bell for 'em.” Jerry used a towel, discarded on the ground, to put pressure on the wound. He applauded Max for keeping quiet despite the pain he must have been feeling. Jerry watched as Jack led Katherine through the wreckage and down another alley.

“Don't worry. Jack's a good soldier,” Roy said. “That boy has a streak of luck on him that the Irish wish they had.” Jerry chuckled feeling a little better about the situation.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack stopped at the end of the alley. The back wall of the clinic facing them and the street empty of cars or people. Only a few pages from newspapers drifted about on the drafts of air that brushed down the lane. “You would think that there would be at least one or two of them,” Jack commented. The street was completely deserted and it unnerved Jack.

“I know I'm not a soldier,” Katherine whispered. “But if we don't hurry your friend isn't going to make it.”

“I know,” Jack said raising the barrel of his shotgun to point in front of him. “It just feels off. Keep your hand on my shoulder so I know where you are.” Katherine took a good grip of Jack's shirt and the two of them dashed across the open lane. Jack turned on the small flashlight attached to the barrel of his shotgun and looked through the open door of the clinic. He cautiously took step after step down the darkened hall, the florescent lights flickering. Katherine motioned to head through the door marked 'supply closet.' Inside was a rather large room with large carts full of drawers. Katherine began grabbing everything that she would need. “How much longer?”

“I just need to find some alcohol to disinfect it,” she said rifling through cabinets, tossing the stored contents on the tiled linoleum. “Got it. We can go.” She turns back to the door and the smile that was once on her face quickly vanished. Jack wasn't at the door where she had seen him just a moment ago. Holding the pistol in both hands she slowly made her way to the door. Leaning out she stared into the darkness, hearing her own heartbeat in her ears. A slight grunting was echoing down the hall from the shadows. She screamed seeing four men stabbing Jack again and again in a flash from the lights above. Katherine ran away from the group, into the unknown clinic, searching for an escape, with the group right on her tail jeering at her. Stumbling through the front doors of the clinic she turned around with the gun raised, hearing the thugs getting closer and she squeezed the trigger.

 

“It's been an hour. They're taking too long,” Roy said looking at his watch. “Something's wrong.”

“Do you think that they got cut off?” Jerry asked worried. “Are they gonna be able to get back to us?”

“I don't know, Jerry. But it doesn't matter. We're going to them.”

“We can't just leave him here. He won't last two minutes.”

Roy looked at Jerry with a sad expression. Walking over he knelt down by Max. “He's already gone.” Jerry looked at Max's face and despite never having seen a real dead body before, he knew that the blank expression on Max's face meant that he had passed on without a word. Roy closed Max's eyes and sat there for a few moments in silence. “Help me get his gear off.” Roy started to unbuckle the straps holding the pack to Max's lifeless body. Jerry helped with trembling hands to undo the clasps.

Leaving Max's body in the alley among the trash just seemed wrong; but, they didn't have time to find a place to bury him. Roy took the rifle and dropped the strap over his shoulder. Jerry took the harness and was surprised to feel how heavy it was. The Humvee was parked just around the corner from them. The metal panels painted military green were barely visible in the hazy smoke that drifted by. Jerry climbed into the passenger seat tossing the vest into the back, with a loud clatter. Roy started up the Humvee, letting out a roar as the engine rumbled to life. It took no time at all to get to the clinic. “Make sure the safety is off on that pistol. You don't want to try to fire it without the safety off,” Roy said, checking the magazine in his rifle. Pulling the flashlight off of the other rifle he handed it to Jerry. “You stay right behind me. No hero shit.”

The duo got out of the Humvee, heading to the clinic. The darkened windows took away from the once pleasant feeling the building would normally exude. Roy went in first checking room by room at the door. Small rooms decorated with small pictures of smiling kids and adults. Each empty room they passed made Jerry's heart move higher and higher in his throat. When he stumbled on something he lowered his light and the panic set in like a match to gunpowder. Jack's body lay on the prostrate on the ground, a pool of blood etched around his still form. “Katherine!” Jerry cried starting to run blindly down the hall.

Roy grabbed Jerry's shoulder and threw him up against the wall, pinning him there with a massive arm. “You don't just go running off blindly into a place you don't know. That's how people get killed. Now I need you to focus.” Letting Jerry down, he set his rifle against the wall, Roy quickly unclasped Jack's vest and picked up the discarded shotgun.

Jerry was surprised to see that the vest and shotgun were held out to him. “I... I don't know how to use it.”

“It's just like the movies. Slide it back. Slide it forward. Aim. Shoot. So easy a caveman could do it.” Jerry chuckled at the small joke before getting help into the vest. “Just remember to keep the butt of that shotgun tight into your shoulder. If you don't it'll kick you like a mule. Stay on my left and keep the muzzle pointed toward whatever might be coming at us.” Jerry nodded feeling a lot better now that he had a cannon for a weapon instead of a pea shooter. “Would she have run outside?”

“If she was being chased that would be the only place to go.” Jerry kept right next to Roy. The moving shadows and the general lack of bodies was unnerving. Each room they checked was completely void of anyone. Living or dead. “You'd think that this place would be packed with people.”

“This place isn't really set up for emergencies. Everyone would be flooding to the hospitals more than a clinic like this.” Stepping into the main lobby, there was still no sign of Katherine. That left only the idea that she was outside somewhere. Roy gave the word to head out after checking out the windows first and seeing the general lack of anyone, crazy or not. Roy stepped out the door and turned immediately to the right to check for any crazies. Jerry was right behind him and quickly turned left. The barrel of the shotgun pointed ahead of him; but, the gun dropped from its original mark. Roy whirled about and froze.

Jerry was slowly walking to the prostrate body, lying in the perfectly cut grass. Jerry sobbed as he looked down to his wife. Her clothes completely torn to shreds, the cloth strips fluttering about on the ground. Her smooth and perfect skin blemished by bruises and cuts. Fluids from who knew how many donors splattered on her skin and dripped out of her body. The fatal blow had been a long smooth cut along her neck. Jerry dropped to his knees letting the shotgun fall from his hands to the soft grass. He embraced his wife's, still slightly warm, body to him before letting out a pain-filled wail. He rocked back and forth, his wife's slender fingers brushing the grass beneath them.

Roy stood there with a sad gaze. He found himself wishing that there was something that he could say to make Jerry feel better; but, what can be said to a man that lost the most important thing in his life? Roy rested against the stucco wall, giving Katherine a moment of silence; but, a gentle rustling from behind him got Roy's attention. Looking over his shoulder he came face to face with one of the crazies. The woman let out an unearthly yowl as Roy tried to pull away. She was dressed in a skin tight dress that covered just above her augmented breasts to the beginning of her thigh. One foot bare, save for the panty-hose that she wore, the other still wobbling on a six inch stiletto heel. Like most soldiers, Roy could tell when it was all over. This was it. That mouth yawning so wide that he could see her tonsils. Then came the butt of the shotgun smashing into the crazies' face and making her head rock back like she had been punched by a heavy-weight right hook.

Jerry had gotten up and retrieved the shotgun at his feet before rushing to Roy's rescue. The truth was that Jerry didn't even know that Roy was there anymore. The rage inside of him spilled over and all that voice in his head was saying was, _Kill, kill, kill, kill. Kill! Kill! KILL!_ He rammed the butt of the shotgun into the crazies' broken noise and teeth again knocking her back onto the ground. He planted his feet, pulled the shotgun tight to his shoulder, shoved the muzzle into the woman's yawning mouth, and pulled the trigger. The first shot jarred him; but, he didn't stop. He racked the slide, loaded another cartridge into the chamber, and roared out in pure rage before releasing another volley of double-ought buck into the crazy's head. Jerry sat there racking the shotgun slide and pulling the trigger even continuing after he spent his last cartridge and all that came from pulling the trigger was a dull click from the hammer striking air.

Roy stared at Jerry for a long moment just listening to the clicking of the empty shotgun. He slowly placed his hand on the shotgun and took it from Jerry. He stared down at the mashed and bloody remains of the crazy that now lie still on the grass. “Jerry, we have to go,” Roy said quietly. Jerry stared in an almost catatonic state at the devastation that he caused. “Jerry, we don't have time for this. Everything within a mile heard that. We have to go. We have to go now! They're coming!” Getting no response from Jerry, Roy shouldered the shotgun and grabbed Jerry by the vest he was wearing. Dragging him back through the clinic to the Humvee, still parked where they left it. Roy shoved Jerry into the passenger side before climbing in the driver seat and flooring the gas. The Humvee tore off down the street, passing the wrecks and the crazies trying to catch up. Jerry only stared out the window that reflected the burning buildings and cars that darkened the sky with ash and smoke. The world was fine several hours ago. The world was perfect. Then the perfect world became hell. The end of the world had begun.


	2. Load Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having left Phoenix behind, Jerry and Roy are on their way to Yuma. Along the way the find a few more survivors and raid a military base for supplies. When they find Yuma to be overrun, they head to Dallas, following a garbled radio broadcast.

Gunfire cracks over the air of the open field. The green beer bottle, that had been so precariously placed on the cross beam of a wooden fence, exploded in a hail of emerald shards. “You're getting better, Jerry. Four out of Five,” Roy said clapping Jerry on the shoulder. “Here soon you'll be a regular sharpshooter.” Jerry smiled a little as he lowered the black pistol. He was surprised how little it actually kicked when he pulled the trigger. But his first experience with a firearm had been the shotgun last night and Roy had been right – it kicked like a mule. The grip of the pistol in his hand made him feel like he could take on an army of crazies. “Alright, let's pack it up. We still have another hour before we reach Yuma.”  
“What do you think we'll find when we get there?” Jerry asked adjusting the vest strapped around his torso.  
“Hopefully, a military presence. If not then we'll figure out our next move from there.” Roy placed his AR-15, as Jerry had come to find it was called, in the Humvee before jumping in and starting it up. Jerry hopped into the passenger seat and sighed feeling the heat baking him like he was in an oven. The vest he wore didn't breath and it only made his sweat stick to him instead of evaporating to cool him off. The tires kicked up dirt before they pulled onto the highway again and the gentle hum of the engine droned over the silence. “Why don't you try the radio. I don't have much hope for it; but, maybe there is something being broadcast.”  
Jerry switched on the radio and slowly began to turn the dial. The hissing static filled every station up and down the radio dial. “Well, it figures. All the radio stations were probably overrun when all of this started.” He turned off the radio with a click and stared out the window at the flat desert. He did everything that he could to focus on something other than what he had lost. Roy knew that Jerry was avoiding the reality of the situation; but, who wouldn't? Losing your entire family in a matter of hours was enough to make a sane man snap if not want to ignore the reality.  
“We need gas. I think there was a sign that said there would be some coming up soon. Keep your eyes open.” Jerry didn't see the point. It was nothing but flat desert for as far as the eye could see. In the waving vapors that rose from the black asphalt the buildings of a small town came into view. Short buildings with mom and pop businesses lined the road. If the end of the world hadn't come then this little town would have been busy with life from people gathering supplies for a home project from the hardware store, or getting food from the grocery store. Jerry could almost imagine shooting a commercial for some down to earth film about a small town's need to change or information for a new medicare plan in the streets of the small town. Now it was just empty. Nothing gave it life. The empty buildings were just a grim reminder of what this town used to be. The bright yellow clam sign with the word SHELL printed on it in bold red letters loomed over the darkened building beside it. Roy had stopped at the corner and just watched the building. “Alright. Just remember the drill. Check the area, check the building, get what we need, and get out.”  
Jerry nodded as he pulled his shotgun from the back seat. Roy pressed the gas slightly and slowly drove up to the diesel pumps. Roy and Jerry hopped out, their firearms up and ready. The pair carefully advance on the gas station, Roy in front and Jerry close behind, needing to turn on the gas. “There should be something that will allow us to just get gas,” Roy said.  
Jerry moved to the door and took one careful step after another. Then he heard the sound of a hammer being pulled on a revolver and froze. Just in his peripheral he could see the silver muzzle of the forty-five caliber pistol that was aimed only a few inches to the right of his head. “This is my hiding place,” the man said. Jerry chanced a look at him. He was a middle age man with whiskers sprouting from his chin and dressed in a red shell polo and tan khakis. A camouflage hat that you could imagine a fisherman to wear as his lucky cap was pulled down tight on his head as if it were going to blow away.  
“Take it easy,” Jerry said gently. “We just need some gas and we'll be on our way.”  
“You think I'm fucking stupid?! You're just waiting for me to turn my back so your ape friend can beat my skull in.”  
“Look I don't know who you've been around when all of this started,” Roy stated, “but we're just here for gas. If you want we'll go outside and you can just flip on the pump for us in here.” Roy lowered his rifle as a sign of good faith and Jerry followed in turn. The gas station attendant seemed to relax a little, but didn't lower his revolver. “What's your name, man?”  
“Ryan.”  
“Okay, Ryan. Listen man. The world has gone to hell, and we aren't going to survive it if we turn on one another. Jerry and I are headed to Yuma. There's a military base there that I believe is still operational. The way I see it, the more gun hands the better. Come with us to Yuma.” Ryan looked between the two of them and nervously lowered the gun and uncocking it.  
“Thanks,” Jerry said. “My name is Jerry.” He held out his hand to Ryan who shook it quickly. “Now since we're all friends here why don't we gather up some food and water for the drive.”  
“I'll get the gas,” Roy said moving behind the counter. He struck one of the buttons and left the store. He shoved the nozzle of the pump into the gas tank and locked the handle in place. The sound of the pump inside of the machine drawing the gasoline from the underground tank could be heard with a rhythmic tapping.  
Jerry and Ryan filled several bags with bottled water, sports drinks, chips, and candy bars. “Not the best thing to eat on the road; but, beggars can't be choosers,” Jerry said. He picked up a snickers bar and bit a large piece off, enjoying its chocolaty and caramel filled goodness.  
“Hey! What are you doing?!” Ryan said rushing over. Jerry looked at him a little shocked until Ryan chuckled a little. “Sorry, sort of a habit.” He picked up a payday and slowly unwrapped it. “You work someplace for eight years I guess you get kind of attached to it.” He took a bite raining crumbs of peanuts onto the linoleum.  
“I guess. I was an executive of an ad agency before all this happened. Don't see that line of work progressing any time soon.” He glanced down at the revolver in Ryan's hand. “You keep that in the store for night protection?”  
“Yeah I did. More to scare them than to actually use it. Never even fired the damn thing.”  
“Well, you will have more than enough chances in the future. Let's get this stuff out to the Humvee.” The two of them carryied the four bags of food and water out and tossing it inside the back of the vehicle.  
“Nobody make a sound,” Roy whispered. Jerry looked at him and then turned to see what his eyes were locked onto. A large horde of the undead had shuffled its way down the road into a chaotic flock. Roy pointed Jerry into the driver seat and slowly began leaning toward the pump to unhook it. As Jerry opened the door, Ryan suddenly let loose all six rounds from his revolver. He didn't hit any of them but the horde turned to the noise. Sensing a meal, they started stumbling at a fast pace toward the trio. “Get in!” Roy yelled jumping into the back. Everyone piled in and Jerry threw the engine into first, taking off and ripping the nozzle from the pump. “Stop! Hold on a second!” Roy yelled. Jerry slammed on the breaks and looked back to him.  
“Why the fuck are we stopping?!” Ryan screamed.  
Roy pulled out one of the flares in his vest and struck it on his knee. A flash of searing red light and a loud hissing filled the Humvee. Roy turned to Jerry and said, “Drive. Fast,” and tossing the flare out the window to the small trail of gasoline that led back to the station. Jerry looked at Roy like he was crazy, already putting together what the former military man had planned, before flooring the gas and tearing off down the road getting up to third gear. The initial shock wave when the gas station exploded nearly threw them off the road. Jerry turned the black wheel this way and that trying to keep the military vehicle on the asphalt. He swore he could feel the tires come off of the road and roll on just two, before managing to correct the chaotic twisting.  
Getting control of the fish tailing Humvee, a large mushroom cloud billowing up in the rear view mirror. “What the hell is your problem?!” Ryan screamed from the back seat. “Stopping in the middle of the road with those things coming after us! Are the two of you insane?!”  
“What we did was get them off of our trail,” Roy said calmly.  
“So blowing up my gas station was your solution!? What if someone was killed?!”  
“If we didn't do that, that horde would be following us all the way to Yuma,” Jerry said.  
“Let me out of the fucking car! I'm not traveling with a pair of psychos!” Ryan yelled pulling open the door.  
Jerry slammed on the breaks and skidded to a halt. Ryan quickly stepped out of the car with Roy and Jerry right behind him. “You go out on your own and you're going to end up dead,” Roy stated.  
“Why? You gonna shoot me if I don't comply? You ain't got the balls, nigger!”  
“What did you just say?” Roy asked, the anger filling his voice at the derogatory word..  
“I called you a nigger! You fucking deaf you stupid, fucking, n...” Ryan suddenly dropped and was pulled into a man hole. He clawed at the asphalt in an attempt to pull himself free from whatever had a hold of him. “Oh my god! Help me!” Roy and Jerry rushed over each grabbing and arm and pulling with all of their might. “They're tearing into me! Oh, god! Get me out!” With a crack and a sudden give Ryan came up out of the hole missing everything from the waist down. His intestines still being pulled into the darkness of the hole like the chain of some anchor being dropped off the side of a ship.  
Roy and Jerry dropped what was left of Ryan on the ground and just stared at him. “He... he's dead,” Jerry stated.  
“No fucking shit! Get in the damn car before the rest of them come up for us!” Roy shouted rushing around to the driver side. The two of them drove off quickly leaving the small town behind in a cloud of dust and Ryan's half a body slowly being pulled back into the hole. Jerry couldn't get his mind off of the way that Ryan died. Even if he was racist, he didn't deserve to get killed like that. “What the hell is going on down there?” Roy said looking to the side of the road.  
Jerry looked out the window into a large store plaza down the hill from the road. A few cars littered the parking lot below. A large crowd of the crazies were gathered under the green sign that read Dick's Sporting Goods. “They don't usually group up like that unless they think there is something for them to eat,” Jerry said. “You don't think someone is trapped inside there do you?”  
“One way to find out.” Roy turned the wheel and drove them down the hill toward the store. Jerry grabbed his shotgun and made sure that he had a shell in the chamber. Roy ran through the outermost edge of them hitting several with the Humvee. The bodies rolled and flipped through the air from the impact like they were gymnasts. It reminded Jerry of the floor routines during the Olympics that he used to watch with Katherine when they came on. Making the wide turn to head back they plowed through the middle of them. Jerry could see through the crowd that there was a young man staring at them from inside of the store.  
“I see someone in there,” Jerry said.  
“Looks like we're going shopping.” Roy turned the wheel hard enough that the back of the Humvee spun around and knocked away several of the crazies. Roy pulled himself up onto the roof and started to fire shot after shot into the shambling bodies that were coming after them. Jerry started blasting the few crazies that were still beating on the glass. The young man that he had seen inside, wearing a green vest, started to remove the small blockade that had been built up to keep out the crazies. Inside he could hear someone screaming at the teenager for trying to open the door. “Tell them to fucking hurry! I'm starting to run low on ammo!”  
Jerry ran up to the door and beat his fist against it. “Come on! Open the door!” A man dressed in a white collared shirt and a crimson tie came into view. The white shirt did little to hide the large belly that he had, probably from sitting in his office all day long. “What the fuck is the matter with you?! Open the damn door!” The manager held up one finger to Jerry, like there wasn't a life or death situation going on just on the other side of the glass before continuing to berate the teenager in front of him.  
“Jerry! Last magazine!” Roy yelled backing away from the Humvee. Jerry could see several other people coming into view of the windows; but the one that got his attention first was a giant of a man that strode over to the managerial worker and shoved him out of the way. The manager reeled back, crashing into a display of balls from every sport one could think of. They came crashing down on him in an almost cartoonish fashion as he covered his head with his arms. The bodybuilder, that tore down the barrier in one pull, looked like he could have been a young Arnold Schwarzenegger. Heavy built and toned muscle covered every inch of the man save for his right leg, which was missing. In it's place was a high end prosthetic that he seemed to have mastered the use of. Had he been wearing long pants, Jerry never would have known that the man was missing his leg at all. Jerry blew the head off of a crazy that was running in a dead sprint for Roy before the two of them rushed inside.  
Trying to close the door, a crazy lunged up and placed his arm between the door and the frame that would keep it closed. He was wearing the remains of an expensive three piece suit. One of those suits that you had to purchase in separate pieces and the price tag of each was enough to make you have a heart attack at first glance. His pink stained teeth gnashing on the other side of the clear glass in an attempt to get the at the meal that was being dangled in front of him. He grasped about frantically, with one finger broken and tilted off in an unnatural direction, trying to pull one of the people inside to its mouth to begin feeding. “Hold him back!” Jerry said to Roy and the one legged man as he rushed across the isle and leapt over the counter. Ripping a camping hatchet off of the wall he used a nearby box cutter to tear through the plastic packaging that covered the bladed head. Rushing back he started hacking at the arm like a mad man, splattering blood all over his already blood covered shirt. He could feel the warm spray dotting his skin and clothing until the arm suddenly dropped, and the door closed with a solid click. The crazy, who had just lost his arm, continued to beat his now bloody stump against the glass. The shattered bone scratching against the glass and the blood smeared around like a three year old's finger painting. Stacking the barricade of chairs, sports equipment, and a canoe into place, Jerry and Roy sat down catching their breath. Jerry looked at the small hatchet that he still held in a tight grip, the head completely coated in blood. He grabbed the sleeve of a nearby toppled over mannequin and wiped it clean. He slid the smooth handle through his belt, adding it to his collection of weapons.  
“I don't know who you think you are,” the manager said, poking the one legged man in his well toned chest, “but this is 'my' store and 'I' decide when the doors get opened. If you want to go all cowboy you can just get the hell out.”  
“What the hell is your problem man?” Jerry said standing up. “You saw that we were out there and you were just gonna leave us there to die.”  
“I wasn't leaving you out there. I was remaining professional.”  
“Professional!?”  
“Yes, I was addressing one of my workers about how he needed to come talk to me first before opening the door. Then I was going to let you in.”  
“Are you fucking kidding me?! What delusion are you living in?!” Jerry was about ready load his last shell into the shotgun and blow the manager to kingdom come until Roy placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. The manager just brushed off the confrontation and retreated to his office, where he closed the door.  
Roy looked to the one legged man and held out his hand. “Thanks. We wouldn't have survived much longer if you hadn't helped,” he said.  
“Leave no man behind,” the one legged man responded. “I'm Vincent, former marine corps. The dick in the collared shirt is Ben. The guy who tried to open the door the first time was Jake.”  
Jerry walked over to Jake and held out his hand. The freckle covered red head took the hand offered to him and gave a firm shake. “Thanks for your help,” Jerry said.  
“I'll introduce you to everyone else in our little group here. The other two in green vests are Adam and Beth. The Hispanic lady there we've been calling Jane, like Jane Doe, and her baby,” Vincent said.  
“Is her name difficult to pronounce or something?” Jerry asked.  
“No... there's just a small issue,” he said.  
“¿Usted sabe que está dos putos idiotas derecho?” Jane said quickly.  
“She doesn't speak a lick of English,” Vincent chuckled.  
“Who's that over there?” Roy asked, pointing to a young woman that sat on a weight lifting bench by herself. She was dressed in a nice white sundress and her hair was styled in long waves; but, the entire image was horrifically tainted with the large spray of blood that coated the left side of her body and face.  
“Her name is Julie. She hasn't said anything other than that. Of course, I don't blame her. Those freaks came out of nowhere and her family was out in the parking lot. She watched as they killed her mother, father, and younger brother. If I hadn't grabbed her and dragged her inside she would've been killed too.” Jerry felt a pain in his chest as he heard what happened to Julie. “We've been trying to snap her out of it; but, I don't think she's gonna come around any time soon.”  
“Damn,” Roy said, “the whole fucking world has gone to hell.”  
“Yeah, tell me about it. You guys are welcome to rest here with us. We just grab a few sleeping bags and blow up mattresses from the camping section. There are snack foods at the front and some preserved stuff in the hiking area.”  
“I hate to break it to you, but we can't stay here and neither can you,” Roy said.  
“I know, eventually we'll run out of food; but, what else can we do? Your Humvee was the toughest thing that we could have used to bust out of here.”  
“Well, I'm pretty sure that's no longer an option,” Jerry commented as he looked to their old vehicle, crawling with the crazies that demanded entry.  
“There's nothing else here that we could use?” Roy asked.  
“There's a supply truck in the loading dock,” Beth said. “It's not very big though. Maybe the size of a bread truck.”  
“Big enough for all of us to fit,” Roy said. “Why haven't you tried using it?”  
“The dock has about ten crazies in it,” Vincent stated. “I can't take them on my own and no one here can fight well enough to keep from getting killed.”  
“Now there's three of us,” Jerry said.  
Vincent smiled. “You guys seem to know what you're doing. You take point.”  
“Get some of those large hiking bags and fill them with food, water, and ammo from the gun case,” Roy said as the teenage workers rushed off to get the supplies.  
“Getting the ammo will prove difficult. The glass is pretty well bullet proof and the only one with a key is Ben, and he refuses to let anyone near it.”  
“Let me have a talk with him,” Roy said, weaving through the displays of hunting clothes and sports equipment.  
“Well, while he's doing that maybe you would like to get changed out of that stuff,” Vincent said leading Jerry to a rack of rather plain clothes. “Sturdy and fitting.” Jerry nodded as he unclipped the vest that he was wearing and pulled off his blood soaked business clothes. Finding his size on the rack, he pulled on some tan work jeans and a red flannel shirt. Vincent came back dropping off four boxes holding boots of different sizes. “I gave a guess at your size. These are really good. They last for a long time.” Jerry pulled out the almost military style boot that was covered in camouflage for hunting.  
“We're in business,” Roy said tossing the keys to Vincent.  
“How'd you get them?”  
“I put a gun in his face and said either he gives me the keys or I give him a bullet,” Roy said. “Works every time.”  
Filling four duffel bags full of ammo the group set them by the back door. “When we get in the dock, keep your gunfire to a minimum. These things will just be drawn to it.”  
Jane came running over, her baby strapped to her back and sleeping soundly. “¡Esas cosas se están rompiendo a través del vidrio!” she exclaimed in a panicked tone and tugged roughly on Vincent's arm, pulling him to the front. The mob of crazies at the front had multiplied so much that the few closest to the glass were being crushed by the ones at the back as they tried to reach their meals on the other side. The clear barrier that kept the crazies out was starting to crack from the weight being put against it.  
“We need to leave. Now,” Roy said.  
“Well, me and my employees are staying here,” Ben said walking out. “This is my store and I am responsible for keeping my workers safe.” He strode out between the glass front and the group that had assembled to see the mob outside.  
“I don't know if you've noticed,” Jerry said, “but it's the end of the fucking world out there. Your manager job and procedures no longer exists.”  
“Ben, we really need to get out of here,” Beth said, worried.  
“You can't hold us prisoner here,” Adam said, acting like he was gonna fight his way out.  
“I am the manager! While you are in my store you will obey my authority!” Ben demanded.  
“I don't give a fuck if your the Queen of England! We're leaving. If you wanna stay that's your choice,” Roy said. The glass in the front door suddenly shattered and grasping hands reached in pulling Ben back by his shirt. Roy and Vincent ran forward grabbing his legs and tried to pull him back into the store. Ben screamed in terror as he fought to get free from clammy hands that gripped him tight. Those seeking hands held him arched over the barrier that the group had moved into place and several more reached around his bloated belly. The fingers clawed at his shirt and stomach before they slowly ripped through his skin and began tearing his stomach open with a splash of blood and entrails falling out onto the tiled floor. The mob grabbed for the bloody intestines and pulled them back to feast on their meal. Roy and Vincent stepped away before they were pulled out with Ben and started firing into the mob. “Get to the dock! Now!” Roy yelled.  
Jerry was the first to the door and took a moment to calm himself before he tore open the door. A delivery man, still full dressed in his uniform and hat, was waiting for him. Pulling the trigger, Jerry sent the spray of pellets through the delivery man's legs. Loading another cartridge, he removed half of the delivery man's head. He started blowing away the crazies as they came at him. I'm surprised how easy this is now, he thought.  
Having nothing to lose gives you certain freedoms, the voice in his head said.  
When the shotgun ran out of shells, he held onto it with both hands and swing it like Babe Ruth going for a home run. “Get the stuff in the truck!” Jerry yelled. The teenagers lugged the bags of food and ammo into the truck white truck with a Doritos logo painted on the side. Beth and Jake had to grab the same duffel bag of ammo to carry it to the van before dropping it into the back, making the axle dip.  
Jane rushed in with a pistol and started firing at the stragglers that wandered into the open dock door. “Muere maldito cerdo! Comer plomo que padre bastardo! Su madre era una puta mierda!” Jane screamed, unloading a clip from a silver pistol.  
Roy and Vincent rushed in and braced themselves against the door. Keeping those that were demanding entry from entering. “This isn't going to hold forever! We've got to go!” Roy yelled.  
“Then go,” Vincent stated. Everyone stopped and stared at him. “I'm the only one strong enough to hold the door. Get out of here before they tear the building down.” The room was silent, save for the muffled screams of hunger beyond the banging door. Roy held out his pistol and Vincent smiled. “I'm Catholic. I'm afraid suicide isn't an option for me.”  
“Then take a few of the fuckers with you,” Roy said pushing the pistol to Vincent insistently.  
Vincent chuckled with a shake of his head before taking the firearm from Roy. “Semper Fi,” he said with a smile spread over his face. The teens tossed the last two duffel bags into the truck and climbed in. Roy started up the small motor and tore out of the dock. Jerry looked into the rear view mirror at the fading image of Vincent still holding that door closed before he disappeared in the distance.

* * *

 

“Where are we going?” Beth asked, crouched down between Roy and Jerry.  
“Yuma,” Jerry responded.  
“What's in Yuma?”  
“There's a military base. If it's still manned then it will be a good place to hang tight and get some info. If it's been overrun then we can get more durable supplies and ammunition.”  
“You gonna fawn over her the whole drive?” Adam jeered. He let out a snarky laugh as he pointed out Jake's comforting of Julie.  
“Just shut up, Adam,” Jake said, giving him an angry look.  
“What? You think because you were given that rifle that you are some kind of badass? I can take you any day of the week,” Adam retorted.  
“This coming from the guy who pissed himself and cowered under the front counter when the first one of those things hit the window. What would you know about being a fucking badass?” Beth pointed out. Adam looked at Beth in shock before becoming quietly dejected. Roy chuckled as he came to a halt a good distance from the base. Buildings stood out in the fading light of sunset and chain link running the perimeter, topped with spiraling barbwire.  
“No lights. That's not a good sign,” Roy said.  
“Why?” Beth asked.  
“No lights at a military base in the middle of a crisis means that nobody is home. At least, no one sane.”  
“Then why are we just sitting here?” Adam asked, agitated.  
“One, we need to have a plan before just start running in there, and two...” The rumbling engine suddenly sputtered, coughed, and then fell silent with a shudder that shook the entire vehicle, “we're out of gas.” Jane sat in the back comforting her cooing baby before she threw a small blanket over her shoulder and began to feed it beneath the cloth barrier. “While she's doing that, we can come up with a plan.”  
“They seem to react most to noise; so, whatever we do, it should be done quietly,” Jerry said.  
“We need to get to that building there,” Roy said pointing to a shorter brick building that stretched along the length of the fence with its own fence around it and vehicles parked to the side of it. “That the supply and armory. It will have weapons, ammo, and food that will last us for months. Maybe even years.”  
“But without the truck, we can't haul it,” Adam scoffed.  
“We'll get that figured out later,” Jerry said. “Right now we need to get to that building and secure it. If there are any crazies about we need to dispatch them as quietly as possible.”  
“Alright. Jerry, in one of those pouches should be a wire cutter. We're all going to go to the fence closest to the building and cut an opening for us. If the inner fence is locked we'll cut through that as well. Everyone else will be watching our back while we cut. Understand?” Everyone gave a nod except for Julie, still locked in her catatonic state. Jane finished feeding her baby and wrapped her back up in the swaddle around Jane's torso.  
“What about the ammo and guns?” Jake asked.  
“We'll come back for them,” Roy said. Opening the doors the little army quickly ran across the field to the fence and paused to make sure that they weren't noticed. “Get your finger off that trigger, Beth. I don't want you blowing my head off.” Beth quickly moved her trigger finger to the side of the pistol. With hasty clipping, Jerry and Roy cut a large hole into the chain link fence.  
“How the hell are we supposed to haul all of this without the truck?” Adam whined as the group filed through the hole. “We are talking about hundreds if not thousands of pounds here.” Jerry knew that Adam was just being pessimistic. There was no way that everything they would need was going to weigh a thousand pounds. But he did have a point.  
“With one of those,” Roy said, pointing to a large truck. The back covered in a thick canvas and large enough to haul a car. Giant wheels held the heavy frame from the ground and the large cab held the powerful diesel engine. “That can get us and all the gear in the armory out of here with no trouble.”  
“Looks like we have company though,” Jake said, pointing at a shuffling shape that disappeared back into the building.  
“The gate is open. Let's head inside and take them out,” Roy said, leading the small team to the large open door. Peeking around the corner he counted two of the crazies standing in the center of the room, seeming to wait for something. “You go for the one on the left. I'll take right.”  
Jerry nodded as he quietly made his way to the crazy that had his back turned. The flickering lights of the room would show in glimpses that it was filled with racks holding rifles, shotguns, and pistols. Large cabinets lined the walls that would hold thousands of rounds of ammunition. At the back were several large guns that looked to be fifty caliber machine guns. He set his shotgun down, leaning it against a table, and pulled out his hatchet. He glanced to Roy who had picked up a crowbar and the pair nodded to each other as a signal to go and swung their impromptu weapons at the crazies' heads. A splatter of blood arched across the floor as they pulled their weapons back and struck again. When the crazies stopped moving, they stopped swinging. Roy quickly ran through the doors at the end of room and reappeared shortly after.  
“Alright,” Roy said, wiping the sweat from his brow, “there aren't anymore and I locked the doors. Jake, Beth, through there is the supply room. I want you to grab MRE's, they're the brown packages about the size of a shoe box, get as many as you can. Adam, Jerry, and I will get ammo and weapons from in here. Keep close together and if anything goes wrong, yell.”  
“Won't that attract the crazies?” Beth asked.  
“If things go wrong, they'll already be on their way. Jerry help me with this.” Rushing over, the pair lifted one of the large machine guns from the table and slowly carried if over to the truck. The two of them managed to mount the large barreled cannon to the top of the truck. “This should clear a path through any number of those crazies,” Roy chuckled. “Alright Jerry, lets start getting guns and ammo into the back of this thing.” Climbing down, Adam and Jerry started to stack box after box in the back of the truck while Roy put the guns into carrying cases. Jake and Beth set the boxes of high calorie food on the other side nearly filling the truck to the brim.  
“You slow pokes gonna take all day with that food?” Adam asked, annoyed.  
“Shut the fuck up, Adam!” Jake yelled and shoved him. Adam shoved back before the two of them grabbed a hold of each other and started to wrestle about.  
“Hey. Hey! Knock it off!” Roy said, pulling them from one another by their collars. “I don't care what was going on between you two before all of this; but, right now we need to work together. So no more fighting. Am I clear?”  
“Yeah,” Jake responded.  
“Whatever,” Adam said, with a roll of his eyes. “You can't order me around. It's not like you have any authority.”  
Growling, Roy pinned Adam up against the wall. “Listen to me you little shit! I dealt with guys like you for eight years. Do you know what we did to assholes like you? We beat the ever living shit out of them! So if you wanna keep having an attitude, then I'm going to kick your ass so hard that you won't have to worry about the fucking crazies. You'll be on the fucking moon! You got that?!” Adam was so scared, that he was visibly shaking.  
Everyone froze hearing something in one of the unopened cabinets rustle about. Everyone held their breath for a moment praying that they were just hearing things until the doors of the cabinet shook with a loud thud. Beth slowly walked to the door of the cabinet. The flickering lights making the demanding thud seem to echo all around them. Beth swallowed slowly, hearing her heart beat pounding in her ears, as she grasped the handle and slowly turned it. The door flew open and several birds flapped up into Beth's face. She let out a scream as she back pedaled and her finger pulled the trigger of her pistol.  
The loud shot rang out like a church bell calling for service. The bullet passed through Adam's head taking most of the back of his skull and brain with it. Silence and disbelief filled the room as the echo drifted off into nothing as Adam's limp form dropped to the cement floor. Answering the sharp blast was a wild, animalistic screech that hailed over the air. Roy bolted from the room yelling, “Grab what you can!” He rushed to the gate and pulled it closed as the first of the crazies came barreling toward the building. Roy rushed back to the truck as the group filed into the back of the truck. Jerry pulled himself up to the top of the cab and racked the machine gun, loading the first of many rounds into it. Pressing down on the trigger, he jumped feeling the kick jar him all the way through his shoulders. Roy floored the gas barreling through the fence and crushing several of the stampeding crazies under the massive tires.  
Jerry panted as he pried his hands from the grips of the machine gun. The tingling feeling from the jarring kick still left his hands with that pin pricking feeling. Climbing down into the cab he rested his head back against the head rest. “That was close,” Jerry commented.  
“Yeah, a little too close. We have to be careful the next time we take these guys out,” Roy said, shaking his head. He reached back and slid open the little door that separated the group. “Everyone okay?” Silence answered them from the back of the truck. “I need a response! Is everyone okay?!”  
“We're not hurt,” Jake said, his face appearing in the small window.  
“That's better,” Roy said. “Make sure any wounds are covered and let me know if anything is wrong.”  
Jerry took a quick glance through the small window. The little group of survivors huddled to the sides of the truck, amongst the boxes of food, weapons, and ammo. His gaze stopped on Beth. She sat with her knees hugged to her chest and rocking back and forth. The pistol that she had accidentally fired tossed as far away from her as she could manage in the small area of boxes and bodies. Her eyes were wide with horror with what she had done by accident.  
Jerry looked to Roy with a sad uncertainty. “Where are we going now?” he asked.  
“I don't know, man,” Roy sighed. “Everywhere we turn there are just more of those fucking crazies. Hey, open up that computer screen there. It's a Blue Force Tracker,” Roy pointed to a large flat screen that folded open, displaying a map. “Is there a blue dot on that map that came up?”  
“Yeah; but, it's over the New Mexico state line,” Jerry said.  
“Looks like we're headed to New Mexico then.”  
“Why? What's a blue dot mean?”  
“Friendly forces. It means that somewhere over there someone has another Blue Force Tracker and is relaying information.” Jerry nodded before rubbing his eyes. They felt like lead weights were attached to them and slowly pulling them down. “Get some shut eye, man.” Roy patted him on the shoulder. “It's gonna be a long drive to New Mexico.” Jerry nodded and slowly let sleep overtake him.

* * *

 

“Did you fall asleep?” Katherine asked.  
Jerry shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked up to his wife. “Only for a minute. Weird dream though.”  
“You always have weird dreams,” Katherine giggled. The yard was populated with little kids running around screaming and brightly colored birthday decorations. Jerry pulled himself from the folding chair he had napped in and stretched. Marian's crying had kept him up most of the previous night; but, he wouldn't trade it for the world. The presents were all stacked on the table and wrapped in brilliantly colored paper and festive bows. A large sign saying, HAPPY BIRTHDAY EDWARD! Was strung across the back of the house.  
“You're it, Daddy!” Edward said, grabbing his leg.  
Jerry chuckled as he patted Edward's head. “Daddy doesn't want to play tag, buddy. Go play with your friends,” he said, ushering his son off.  
“Happy birthday to you,” sang the party goers. Little kids quickly gathered around the red paper covered picnic table as Katherine brought the birthday cake filled with bright candles fluttering in the gentle breeze.  
“Make a wish, Edward,” Katherine said. Edward took a deep breath and blew hard, extinguishing the tiny flames. The small crowd clapped as the smoke slowly rose up from the blackened wicks. The chaos resumed in the small yard as cake was handed out to everyone.  
Jerry walked up behind his wife, who was still cutting and handing out cake, and smiled as the kids ran about, “Looks like it's your most successful party yet love,” he said. He looked back at his wife. She now stood there, staring off into space. The knife no longer in her hand and the sound of playful screams fading into nothing. “Katherine?” She slowly turned, her throat marred by a long cut that seeped blood down her bare breasts and torn clothes. She stared at him with a dull gaze before leaping at him and releasing an abyss yowl.

* * *

 

Jerry jolted awake, screaming, still seated in the cab of the truck. He looked about trying to find the serene chaos of the party; but, only the flat desert greeted him. Pulled into a gas station he stepped out of the truck and stretched. “Nice to see you up and about,” Roy called, from the pump. The fuel line hung from the machine and poured fuel into the massive tanks. A long shadow was cast by the large Phillips 66 sign that normally would display the price of fuel; but were now dark without any hint of life to them.  
“How long was I out?” Jerry asked, rubbing his eyes.  
“Ten hours, I'd say. You really needed it.”  
“Yeah well, I'm surprised I slept at all. Where is everyone?”  
“Getting snacks and drinks from inside. I figured we might as well take it since that stuff has an expiration date. Beth took Julie to the restroom to get her washed up. They're the only ones I can't see. Could you go check on them?”  
“Yeah.” Jerry checked the pistol at his side, ensuring that there were rounds still in it. The sun reflected off of the dry earth making Jerry squint as he walked around the building. Beth leaned against the wall by the door, staring down at the dust at her feet. Since the first time they met it was the first time that he really got a chance to see her. Auburn hair pulled back into a wavy ponytail. A younger complexion that seemed to hint a small amount of naivety that she possessed. “Hey, you alright?”  
Beth looked up to him and shook her head. “I killed someone. I... I can't forgive myself for that. I'm not a violent person and I just shot him.”  
“It was an accident, Beth,” Jerry said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “No one blames you for what happened.”  
“That doesn't take away the feeling of guilt I have. I pulled the trigger. Then Adam's head was just... and the blood...” Beth turned her face away, a hand covering her mouth. Jerry could see that she was trying to get control of the heaves that shook her body almost violently. “I won't use a gun again. I can't. I just can't.”  
He nodded looking down. He knew exactly what she meant. When he thought back to what he had to do to survive that first day, it made him want to go puke too. “How old are you Beth?”  
“I just turned seventeen.” Beth choked down the bile taste that sat at the back of her throat.  
“Wow. You're only eight years younger than me? You seem very mature for your age.”  
“I was gonna go to college this next year. Guess that's something I'm gonna miss out on.”  
“Don't worry about that. The professors were snobs and the classes were boring as hell. Even the parties weren't that great. You never remembered them and some poor fool always had marker drawn across his face.” Beth let a small smile play on her lips. “There that's better. Do you have any family that we should let know that you're alright?”  
“My mother died when I was young and my father is a trucker that picks up extra shifts all the time. There isn't anyone that I would be able to contact.”  
Jerry nodded. “I lost my family too. If you want to talk. I'll be around.”  
“Don't make any promises.”  
Jerry sighed. She was right, of course. With the hell that the world had turned into there was no telling when your number was up. “How long has it been since Julie went in there?” he asked, motioning to the door.  
“I... I don't know. Maybe twenty minutes?”  
Jerry didn't know why; but, something felt wrong. Maybe it was paranoia or maybe it was survival instinct. He drew the pistol at his hip and slowly pushed the heavy door open. The bright light flooded into the aqua tiled room. Definitely built when those putrid colors were the style of the time. Julie lay on the floor, here eyes void of life, as her body was pulled back and forth by the three crazies dressed in gas station uniforms that ravaged her flesh. Blood pooled on the tiles around the small entourage, slowly claiming more ground as it went, and smeared across what was left of Julie's skin that was now exposed from her torn dress. Jerry was vaguely aware of Beth screaming beside him. The crazies looked up seeing the pair of them standing in the door way and stumbled to their feet, rushing the door. They seemed to be moving in slow motion to Jerry. Even his reaction of grabbing the door and pulling it closed enough for his fingers to slip out before the group slammed into the door seemed slowed. The small trio hammered their hands on the solid metal door trying to get through to their meal on the other side.  
Jerry quickly wrapped his arm around Beth's shoulders and dragged her to the front of the store. “What happened?” Roy asked seeing Beth's expression.  
“No one uses the restroom under any circumstances,” Jerry said, helping Beth to the back of the truck. “Julie is dead. There were three crazies in the restroom just sitting in there.”  
“Shit,” Roy sighed. “Alright, we need to check everything from now on. If we don't, we'll all end up dead.” He pulled the pump from the tank and capped it. “Everyone, listen up. We're losing people left and right here. So we need to lay down a few ground rules. One, no one goes anywhere alone. Ever. Two, everyone will carry a weapon on them at all times.”  
“No,” Beth said quickly. “I won't use a gun again.”  
“Tough luck, kid. Either you carry or you die. Those are the options. Everyone 'will' carry a weapon. Third, you will do what I say when I say it. No hero shit. That's how people end up dead. Alright, everyone into the truck. We still have a ways to go.”  
The small group of survivors shuffled into the military truck and found themselves spots between the boxes of supplies. They sat there, a lack of hope in their faces as the truck roared to life once more. Jerry sat in the passenger seat and rested his head against the warm glass. “I wish I knew what the fuck was going on,” Roy growled.  
“I know. It just seems like the more that we try to figure it out, the more people end up dying,” Jerry said.  
“Well, let's just get to the base. Hopefully, whoever sent out that signal isn't gone or dead.”  
“Or crazy.” The two of them fell silent, knowing full well what the likelihood was.  
The road just seemed to go on and on through the desert. No signs of life. Only the occasional small town that was void of any survivors that might be in need of aid. “Hey, Roy,” Jerry said, quietly. “I'm not disagreeing with what you said back at the gas station; but, did you have to be so harsh with Beth?”  
“If she can't handle it then she shouldn't be here.”  
“I understand where you're getting that logic; but, I don't think that applies here. It's not like she can just quit what's happening.”  
“What are talking about?”  
“I mean that this isn't the army. It isn't like she enlisted for this shit. It just happened, and she was thrown into it whether she wants to be here or not.”  
Roy paused a second and let out a heavy sigh. “You're right. I should've approached that better. What about you?”  
“What about me?”  
“How would you have approached that situation?”  
Jerry thought about it for a minute as he stared out the windshield. “I think I would've taken a moment to explain exactly why everyone needed to have a weapon. Just shutting down what she was saying isn't gonna make her want to carry a gun. It also makes it so that she wouldn't voice her opinion of things if she thinks that she is just going to get shot down again.”  
Roy nodded and cracked open a can of Budweiser, sipping at it quietly. “Yeah, well. I never was much of a people person. Maybe you should do the talking from now on. I can be a little brash.”  
“Really? I didn't notice.” The silence seemed to go on forever. The only sound was the tires humming on the asphalt they traveled on. “What was the last movie you watched? And I don't mean at home. I mean the last movie you watched in theaters.”  
Roy chuckled and shook his head. “The Legend of Hercules.”  
“I remember that one. I thought it was pretty good. The guy playing Hercules did a good job.” The pair found it somewhat relaxing to talk about something closer to normal than the end of the world that currently surrounded them.  
“Mine was Paranormal Activity,” Jake said through the small window. “Scared the shit out of me.”  
“What about you, Beth?” Jerry asked. “What was the last movie you watched?”  
“You don't wanna know,” Beth grumbled.  
“Come on, Beth. We don't care if it was a chick flick,” Roy said.  
“World War Z,” Beth said, hugging her legs to her. The mood suddenly dropped again as the reality was setting in that nothing would be normal ever again.  
Jerry sighed rubbing his temple from the headache that he was developing. He was struck suddenly with inspiration. “World War Z. Son of Bitch!” Jerry slammed his hand down on the dash of the truck.  
“What?! What is it?” Roy asked, looking at Jerry with concern.  
“When you were fighting the crazies did they seem to have any kind of intelligence? I know that the few I fought were stupid, lethargic, and clumsy.”  
“Alright, I agree with you; but, what are you getting at?”  
“They only seem to have one motive. Kill, eat, and move on. Take what happened to Ben and imagine that you were watching it on a TV. What does it look like?”  
Roy thought about it for a second and his eyes widened in realization. “Son of a Bitch,” Roy whispered.  
“What? What's going on?” Beth asked. Her face appearing beside Jake's in the small window.  
“The people that we've been seeing. They're acting like zombies,” Jerry explained.  
“Fuck! I've been watching zombie movies all my life! How'd I not see it?!” Jake cried.  
“We've all been pretty freaked out in the last twenty-four hours,” Roy commented.  
“It wasn't until Beth said World War Z that it hit me,” Jerry said.  
“You're telling me that it's Z-Day?” Beth asked.  
“I don't know. But, it's a theory,” Jerry responded, shaking his head.  
“How the hell did it start?” Jake asked.  
“What does every zombie movie in history tell you? No one knows. I'll bet it's the same in this instance too.”  
“So what do we do?” Beth asked.  
“We survive,” Roy blatantly stated. “We keep moving. We gather all the supplies that we can and we survive. Maybe we can outlast them.”  
“Every zombie movie that they did that they didn't last for long,” Jake said. “But in reality, what else can we do? It isn't like we can declare war on them.”  
“We'll have to hope that this isn't like the movies and that there is a cure. That being said, we need to be extremely cautious. We don't know how this thing is transferred,” Roy said.  
“Well, I figured that we would assume bites. That is the most common one in the movies.”  
“Yeah; but, in that series, what the hell was it? Walking Dead. Everyone already had the virus. They were just waiting to die before they would turn.”  
“Yeah, I guess you're right,” Jake said.  
“Jake we aren't shutting down your idea,” Jerry said, quickly. “But we do need to look at all the angles. If we only assume that you only become a zombie from bites and we're wrong then that's going to put us in a world of hurt.” Jake nodded and Beth sat back down. “What we do know is that there is a signal in New Mexico and we are heading that way so that we can try to get information.”  
“We should be there within the hour. You guys might want to get your pistols reloaded,” Roy commented.  
Driving through the relatively large town only seemed to solidify the idea of 'zombie' in their minds. Shambling corpses would reach out for them as they passed by. A few of the better shape ones would run after the truck before disappearing or slamming head first into a wrecked car. “Does this nightmare ever end?” Beth asked, quietly.  
“I really hope so,” Jerry said.  
“The base is just around the bend. Keep your eyes open. Jake, I want you to watch the back and make sure nothing tries to climb in,” Roy ordered. The chain link fence came into view with the small organization of buildings close behind. “That isn't very promising.” The shack that marked the entrance through the perimeter was covered in blood. The black and yellow striped beam that would normally signal for someone to stop was scattered about the road and only the splintered stump remained. Roy paused by the shack trying to see through the spray of blood that covered the windows. A man dressed in a military uniform threw himself against the glass and tried to claw his way through to the people in the truck. His left hand only a bloody stump that smeared more crimson fluids across the glass.  
Continuing down the road at a slow pace the truck passed between a pair of two-story buildings that mirrored each other. “Looks like no one is he...” Jerry commented before he was cut off by bullets ricocheting off of the metal plates that covered the cab. Jerry and Roy covered up in the cab as the others in the back pressed themselves up against the stacks of boxes for protection.  
Roy snatched the mic for the radio and turned it to the all channel alert frequency. “Hold your fire! Hold your fire! We're friendlies!” Roy yelled. The bullets stopped a moment after and Roy slowly sat up looking through his window. Four silhouettes stood on the roof of the building with assault rifles aimed at the truck. Glancing about to make sure that there were no zombies about, Roy chanced getting out of the truck. “We got a signal on the Blue Force Tracker! Was that you guys?!”  
“Yeah, that was us. I'm surprised anyone got it,” a heavier built man in digital gray camo said. The quartet lowered their guns. “Where's the rest of your platoon?”  
“I'm sorry, man. No platoon. Just five civilians. What's the story here?”  
“Most of the buildings are overrun. We have weapons and ammo, but that's about it. Any clue what's going on?”  
“Actually, we were hoping there was some information here. You guys better join up with us. Staying in one place too long attracts them.” The small group rushed from the rooftop to the truck, piling into the back.  
“I'm Senior Airman Bryan Holster, United States Air Force. These guys are a few civilian techs that were working here when this shit hit the fan. Dave, Greg, and Pat,” Bryan said. Everyone quickly introduced themselves and the small convoy got back on the road.  
“Hey, is he bleeding?” Beth asked, pointing to a bloody bandage on Pat's thigh. He looked feverish and didn't seem to be quite all there.  
“Yeah, he's been shot and I think he's got an infection. You guys have any antibiotics?” Bryan responded.  
“There's a first aid kit in the box on your left,” Roy called through the small window. Getting a dose of penicillin, Bryan injected it into Pat's arm. Beth started to redress Pat's wound as Bryan moved to the small window. “Have you guys heard anything from anywhere else? We came from Phoenix and we aren't doing too well right now.”  
“I guess we should keep heading East,” Bryan said stepping up to the small window. “Sounds like things West aren't any good. You have any leads as to what's happening?”  
“Well, we have a theory,” Jerry mentioned. “How many zombie movies have you seen?”  
“You're fucking with me right?” Bryan asked, perplexed.  
“Right, now it's our only theory. They fit the stereotypical profile.”  
“Well, there's a CDC installation in Texas. Maybe we should head there.”  
“As good a call as any,” Roy said.  
“Hey guys,” Beth called. The concern in her voice could not be mistaken. “This doesn't look like a gunshot.” Jerry looked through the small window to the bleeding wound in Pat's thigh.  
“Those look like teeth marks. Were you bitten?” Jerry asked.  
“It all happened so fast I couldn't tell you what happened,” Pat snapped.  
Jerry sighed, looking to Roy. “Thus far I haven't seen any of the crazies with bite marks like that. My receptionist didn't have a mark on her. What do you think?”  
“Bandage him up, Beth,” Roy called. “Until we know exactly what we're dealing with I'm going to pretend like everyone in this truck is a survivor. We'll keep an eye on him and make sure that he doesn't become dangerous.”  
Pat gave a relieved sigh and laid his head back against the side of the truck. “Hey, do you normally see things if you've lost a lot of blood?”  
“You're in shock. Hallucinations are a possible symptom,” Bryan explained.  
“Okay good. I didn't want to start panicking if it was nothing,” Pat said lazily.  
“You should lay down Pat. Will you give him some water, Jake?” Bryan asked. Jake nodded and pulled out one of the many bottles of water that they had collected from the gas station. Pat would periodically take sips from the plastic container. “We need to get him to a hospital.”  
“No hospitals,” Jerry said quickly. “When all of this started people flocked to the hospitals trying to be diagnosed. There will be more crazies there.”  
“He's right,” Roy agreed. “I've seen it first hand. Hell, even the CDC might be overrun.”  
“I guess we'll find out when we get th...” Bryan said before being cut off by a blood curdling scream.  
Pat had lunged up and bit into Jake's neck. Ripping off a large piece of flesh and exposing the muscle and veins underneath. His neck would spit out a jet of his life-giving blood in a steady rhythm. Beth screamed as Pat stood up in a crazed state. Snarling and thrashing about like an animal. Jumping on Jane as she turned to protect her screaming baby. Biting through her shoulder and feasting on her limp neck as she quickly bled out.  
Rushing into the fray Bryan wrapped his arm around Pat's neck and pulled him away from Jane. Pat clawed at Bryan's arm leaving scratches on his skin and snarling as he was pulled away from his meal. Grunting in effort, Bryan and Dave threw Pat out of the back of the truck. His body rolling and going end over end down the asphalt before coming to a halt. Panting, the pair of them sat back against the walls. “You alright?” Dave asked Bryan. “You're bleeding.”  
“No I'm not,” Bryan said, “It's not my blood.” He grabbed a rag to wipe off his arm and pulled down the sleeves of his jacket.  
“Is everyone alright?” Jerry called through the small window.  
“Jake and the Hispanic woman are dead,” Bryan said. Beth rolled Jane away and picked up her screaming baby, attempting to calm her. “What the hell happened?”  
“Was Pat hurt in any other way than the bite?” Roy asked.  
“Not that I know of, and he wasn't allowed to leave the base until the job was done so he didn't bring anything with him,” Pat responded.  
“Alright. Everyone's thinking it. I'm just saying it. Looks like we're dealing with zombies,” Roy said.  
“If bites transfer the disease then we can't have Jake and Jane's bodies in the back like that,” Jerry said quietly.  
Roy nodded in agreement. “I'll take care of it,” Bryan said dragging the two corpses to the back of the truck and dropping them out the back into the darkness.  
“What are we gonna do about Jane's baby?” Beth asked. The baby suckled quietly on a pacifier, her eyes drowsy and slowly closing.  
“Give her here,” Jerry said, holding out his hands. Beth carefully passed the baby through the small window to Jerry. He cradled her to him feeling the familiar weight of a child in his arms. The baby looked up at him and gave him a wide smile around the pacifier. Jerry couldn't help but smile back. “I'll look after you,” he whispered.  
“You're gonna need to give her a name,” Roy said gently. “One we can pronounce.”  
Jerry chuckled and stared into her brown eyes. “Marian,” he said. He held her close and never wanted to let go. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he was using her to cope with the loss of his family. That this little girl would fill the hole that he had in his chest. But they needed each other. At least, that's how his mind justified it.  
Roy smiled as he reached over and turned on the radio to the familiar hiss of static. He quickly started to turn it hoping for a voice to suddenly appear over the radio. “Wait! Go back!” Beth cried. Roy paused and slowly turned the dial back.  
A small glimmer of hope washed over the small group of survivors, and it came in the form of two static covered words. “...... Safety.......... Dallas..........”

* * *

 

“Welcome to Dallas. Home of the Dallas Cowboys,” Roy commented on the advertisement of a large billboard. The once brightly colored sign was now tattered and covered in soot from fires. Four hours of driving to see a decimated city was not something that people dreamed about doing. Seeing the apocalyptic state that the major city had been reduced to did not lift the spirits of anyone in the truck. Road blocks had been set up to keep people from entering the city in an attempt to keep the incident away from the populace; but the people that once manned the checkpoints were no longer on post. Only a pool of blood and spend bullet casings served as a mark for them ever having existed. Their bodies either devoured or shambling about in the streets of the city they had tried to keep safe.  
The announcement over the radio got clearer and clearer the closer they got to the outskirts of the city. The static finally cleared up and the entire message could be heard. “To any survivors able to hear this message: come to the West Dallas Police Station. We have food, clean water, shelter, treatment, and can provide safety to anyone in need.” Ever since they had first heard the garbled announcement, no one had dared touch the radio in fear that if they turned it off or switched the station that it would disappear and their only connection to safety would be lost for good.  
“Will you shut that thing off?” Bryan asked, irritated. “That thing is getting on my nerves.”  
Jerry reached up and switched off the radio hesitantly. His fingers lingering for a moment as the truck went silent. They had tried playing I Spy earlier; but when the only things they could spy only reminded them of the nightmare they were living in they quickly gave up on it. He bounced Marian gently in his arms as he watched her grab one of her fingers and pull it to her mouth to try to suckle nutrients from it like a greedy vampire. “Did Jane have any formula?”  
“I only ever saw her breastfeed,” Beth said grabbing Jane's backpack and riffling through it. “I'm not seeing anything in here. Not even a bottle.”  
“We should stop for gas before we head into the city. Just to be safe. Maybe we'll find something for Marian.” Roy pulled off into a gas station. “Jerry. You and me are going in to make sure that it's safe and to turn on the gas. Bryan, you and Greg head inside with us and collect anything non-perishable. Beth you stay here with Marian. Dave you start pumping the gas. Let's get going.”  
Everyone jumped out of the truck aiming their weapons in every direction. The small group quickly moved inside the dark convenience store. Spreading out through the isles, they made sure that the building was clear before attempting to start gathering supplies. Jerry searched around the small assortment of scattered merchandise for a bottle and formula for Marian. He sighed as the closest thing he could find was a Baby Bottle Pop. “Open damn it!” Bryan cursed under his breath, trying to get a bag of Cheetos open. He threw it down on the shelf and slammed his fist down on top of it. Orange colored puffs erupted from the forcefully opened bag and scattered across the floor.  
“Bryan, you okay?” Jerry asked with concern. “You've been acting weird.”  
Bryan leaned against the shelf, running his hand through his short, military-cut hair. “Yeah. Just... a little tired with this damn apocalypse thing. It's got me on edge.”  
“It's got us all on edge, bud,” Roy said walking over and patting Bryan on the shoulder. “We'll get through this. Let's just make it to the safe house and try to get our wits about us.” Bryan nodded and pulled a bag from a nearby rack, filling it with canned and packaged goods.  
Jerry headed to the office in the back of the store and slowly turned the handle. His pistol aimed in front of him he let the door creep open. Paperwork piled up in large stacks on a cheaply made desk. A blank computer screen, which normally had a spreadsheet of the previous day's transactions, lay overturned on the floor. Jerry sighed and lowered his pistol seeing the man that hung by his neck from the ceiling. Surprisingly, his tie didn't tear when his weight had been put on it. Jerry stepped into the office to search for any supplies with the hanging man suddenly sprung to life, grasping at him. “Fuck!” Jerry said backpedaling out of the room, tripping over a rack of snack size Doritos.  
“What happened?!” Roy asked from the counter.  
“This fucking asshole came to life,” Jerry growled, picking himself up off the floor. Pulling the hatchet, that he had kept from the sporting goods store, out of his belt he shoved a pile of papers over and stood up on the desk. The crazy reached out for him, trying to draw him closer for a bite. Jerry embedded the head of the hatchet into the crazy's skull and watched the man kick for a few more seconds and then go still. The thin metal beam that had been holding the man's weight suddenly gave out and his limp body dropped like a rock.  
“You're getting better at that,” Roy commented as Jerry pulled his hatchet from the dead man's skull. Closing the door behind him he wiped the smooth metal clean. “Dave's waving at us. Looks like we've got a full tank. Grab what you can and let's get going.” Bryan and Jerry nodded and grabbed an armful of stuff before walking out with Greg. “Why don't you get up on the fifty cal. Jerry. Just to be safe.” Tossing the assortment of chips and snack cakes in the back of the truck, Jerry pulled himself up the ladder to the roof of the truck and sat down in the turret-like seat.  
The drive through the city was nerve-racking. The sound of the truck's engine bounced off the silent streets sounded like a siren calling to anything nearby of where they were. Roy pulled to a stop in front of the West Dallas Police Station. Tents had been set up in the car port area for any survivors to use while they were staying; but the site was anything but uplifting. The nylon fabric was torn to shreds and soaked in blood. Bodies lay strewn about and left to rot in the desert sun. A few of the crazies were still there, feasting on the remains of a fat man who one could imagine being a mall Santa. They were too engrossed in their meal of human flesh to worry about the large truck of people twenty yards away. They just tore off another piece of meat and shoved it into their mouth, much like a toddler eating a birthday cake. “Is it even worth me shooting?” Jerry asked Roy.  
“No,” he responded. “Leave 'em be.”  
“Let's move on already,” Bryan said. “I thought I saw something on the left. Might just be a crazy but they looked human.” Roy turned the wheel heading left down the car littered road. Everyone could feel the morale of the group dropping into the abyssal depths of the earth. There seemed to be nothing good left in the world. It was just all one long horrific nightmare. Jerry could imagine that there were many people up in the buildings that had closed themselves off and kept telling themselves it was a dream and that they would be waking up soon. Some part of him wanted to be doing the same thing. Sitting in a room that you knew was safe and just wait for the nightmare to be over. One way or another.  
Jerry jumped as heard something give out a loud pop under the hood of the truck and suddenly started slowing down. “Oh, fuck!” Roy groaned letting the truck roll to a stop in an alley. Roy jumped out with Bryan right behind him. Jerry climbed down as they lifted the hood. “Please tell me the transmission didn't just blow.”  
“A transmission would have been louder than that. What about a water line?” Bryan asked.  
Roy climbed up on top of the truck's bumper and looked over the engine. “They look fine but that doesn't mean they are. Damn it! I was a field tactician not a fucking mechanic!”  
Jerry sighed as the two of them tried to find the problem. Shambling around the corner came an older man, dressed in a tattered jacket, shirt, and pants, that paused and stared at the small unsuspecting trio. Walking forward on a bloodied leg that was missing the foot that would normally be at the end of it, he reached out toward Jerry with a hungry hand. A shot rang out, and a hole appeared through the man's head, throwing him sideways. Roy, Bryan, and Jerry pulled their pistols trying to find where the shot came from. “Whoooee! Did you see that shot right there?!” a woman called from the rooftop holding a hunting rifle in the air. “Stay right there. I'll be down in minute!”  
“Well,” Jerry said, partly confused, “she isn't a crazy.”  
“Yeah,” Bryan growled, “but that doesn't mean she wasn't already crazy.”  
Their savior came around the corner still holding the rifle. “You fellas look lost,” she said in a heavy southern accent. Dressed in a pair of jean overalls and an orange tank top. “Name's Sue-Anne. Y'all are lucky I came round when I did.”  
“Yeah, we owe you on that one,” Roy said.  
“So why'd you fellas stop with this tank? You could blow clear through to the other side of the city with this thing.”  
“Something popped in the engine and the engine just died. I'm not a mechanic so I don't know what's wrong.”  
Sue-Anne walked up to the truck and took a quick look over it before exclaiming, “Your damn serpentine belt broke. You just need to get a new one and you'll be set up better than a coon on trash day.”  
“How the hell do you know that?” Bryan questioned.  
“I'm a mechanic,” Sue-Anne retorted. “Pretty damn good one too. There's an auto parts store 'bout a block away right next to the grocery store. I'm sure we can find the right size there.” She pulled out the rubber belt from the engine and draped it over her shoulder. “I'll be back lickity-split.”  
“Hold on,” Beth said coming around the truck with a fussy Marian in her arms. “Did you say grocery store?”  
“Why yes I did, hun.”  
“There's formula and bottles at a grocery store,” Beth said, turning to Jerry. “If Marian is gonna stand any chance of lasting more than a few days she's gonna need it.”  
“We can't take the time to get the belt, come back, fix the truck, then drive over there and get the formula. We'll have every crazy in the city on us,” Bryan argued.  
“Then we cut the time in half,” Jerry said. “Roy and I will go with Sue-Anne to get the belt, the formula, bottles, and any other food we can gather quickly and be back here to fix the truck.”  
“I'm liking this plan,” Greg said nervously. “The less time we spend here the better.”  
“Then I'm coming too,” Bryan said forcefully.  
“We need you here to guard the truck,” Roy explained grabbing his rifle and Jerry's shotgun. “You're the only one here besides myself with any emergency training and it's going to get dark soon. Keep these guys in line until we get back. If we aren't back in a couple of hours, take what you can carry and get out of here.”  
“Alright boys,” Sue-Anne says, “stay close so that y'all don't get lost. But not too close. Try any funny business and I won't hesitate to drop your ass. I grew up with four brothers.” She turned on her heel and briskly started walking toward the end of the alley.  
“I like her already,” Roy chuckled. The trio rushed down the wreck filled road and took a moment to view the strip mall in front of them. The parking lot was clear save for a few bodies of those that were trying to get away from either the crazies or the mob of people that undoubtedly came to get supplies. “Alright. Sue-Anne goes and gets the belt we need. Jerry and I will go to the grocery store and gather as many supplies as we can in that time.”  
“See you fellas at the finish line,” Sue-Anne said bolting across the street.  
Jerry and Roy hurried over to the grocery store, surprised to find that the electronic doors still worked when the locked doors attempted to open. Smashing through the glass windows with the butts of their guns, they quickly entered the store. Head height shelves lined with food were dimly lit by the emergency lights that dotted the store and the beams from the small lights on the sides of Roy and Jerry's weapons. “I'll bet this store has its own backup generator,” Roy said quietly. Moving around to the other side of the registers the duo each grabbed a cart and pushed it down the main aisle. “I'll go for canned goods. You get the formula and baby stuff. You should probably get diapers and the like too if you see any.”  
Pushing his cart down the aisle and making a quick right he stopped in front of the cans of formula. He quickly checked both ends of the aisle before looking at the cans. Not sure what to get he just started filling the cart with everything that they had. Reaching over to another empty cart he began dropping bags of diapers and wipes into it. Hearing a can drop he quickly raised his shotgun. His flashlight illuminating a man dressed in a police uniform with a revolver aimed at him. “Put the weapon on the ground,” the policeman ordered.  
Jerry could see the frightened forms of a small group behind him. “I'll lower my weapon if you lower yours,” Jerry countered. As an act of good faith, Jerry started to lower the muzzle of his shotgun and the policeman followed suit. “I'm with a group of survivors. We have a baby. I'm just trying to get some formula and diapers. My friend is over in canned goods trying to get some more food.”  
The policeman nodded. “We're just taking cover here for a bit. Take what you need. Did you see any cruisers out there?”  
“No. There's nothing moving out there. Do you guys have a plan to get out of here?”  
“We're just gonna stay out of sight until we get to safety.”  
“Jerry, what's taking so long?” Roy asked coming around the corner with a cart full of cans. “I see you have company.”  
“You think we got room?” Jerry asked.  
“We'll make room,” Roy stated. “If you guys want, you can join up with us. We've got a truck big enough for everyone.”  
“We're headed to the shelter,” an older man said quickly.  
“The shelter is destroyed,” Jerry said. “There's nothing there. The crazies got in and it isn't safe anymore. Come with us and we'll get out of here.”  
“I told you,” a smaller man said holding up a bible. “Those people were blasphemers. God is punishing them for their sins.”  
“What?” Jerry questioned.  
“That's just Craig. Ignore him,” the policeman said. “If the shelter really is gone then we would sure appreciate a ride.”  
“Alright, then you guys can help us out. Get as many carts of food and baby stuff as you can manage and take it to the front. We're gonna wheel them out of here,” Roy said turning his cart around.  
“Got your belt guys!” Sue-Anne said waving the piece around in the air. “Oh, hey Carl.”  
“Sue-Anne? What're you doing here?” the policeman answered.  
“Helpin' these guys fix their truck,” she responded.  
“Well, at least you guys got the best mechanic around,” Carl said holstering his revolver.  
“Shoot Carl. If I was anymore lady-like I'd be blushin'.”  
“If you were any kind of lady-like maybe you wouldn't be a drunk that I would have to keep in the tank for days at a time,” Carl jeered back.  
“Alright,” Roy chuckled, “Let's get the food and get going. I don't want to leave the rest of our group out there for too much longer.”  
With ten carts of food being pushed and pulled down the road, Jerry was feeling pretty good about their chances of survival. “What the fuck happened?!” Roy called from the front of the line. Jerry quickly ran up and saw Bryan, with a cracked skull, lying in a pool of his own blood and Greg holding a bloody crowbar. “Somebody better start talking!”  
“He said he was gonna nap for a minute,” Dave said quickly. “He sat down and a few minutes later he attacked us. He was acting like one of the crazies so... we killed him.”  
Jerry walked over to Bryan's unmoving body and pulled up his right sleeve. “He was bitten. I'll bet it was Pat,” he said. “Less than twenty-four hours. That's a fast kill rate.” The good feeling that he had vanished like dew at sunrise. It seemed with every step of progress they achieved, they would lose ground somewhere else.  
“Alright,” Roy said patting Greg on the shoulder. “You did good. Go sit in the truck for a bit. We'll get this.”  
Jerry and Roy stood guard as Sue-Anne got up in the hood of the truck and started weaving the serpentine belt around the pulleys. Everyone else, under Carl's instruction, started to load up the truck with the newly acquired supplies. Jerry paused a moment hearing Craig talking to the rest of the group in a hushed tone. Walking up slowly, he could start to hear what he was saying. “We need to return to the path of righteousness. God is punishing us for our sins and wants us to repent. These men are murders and beyond God's help; but, we can be saved. Let's abandon these blasphemers and pray for redemption.”  
Jerry could see that Craig's words were starting to make the group uneasy. Beth's eyes darted about in fear that this man might attack them. Unwilling to hear another word, or watch this man terrify this small group, Jerry walked up to Craig and drove his fist as hard as he could into Craig's face, knocking him down. Craig stared up at him in shock as two small streams of blood began to trickle out of his nose. “Shut the fuck up,” Jerry growled. “We need to stick together now. Our only chance of survival is if we work together and watch each other's backs. I know you're scared. I'm fucking terrified. But we can't scatter now. If we divide now, none of us are going make it through this. We can do this together. We can survive.” His small speech seemed to inspire the group, and they began filling the truck with a renewed sense of purpose.  
“My, my,” an older woman said. “I need to sit down, William. This is more excitement than I'm used to.”  
“You go ahead, Anna,” the older man, William, responded. “We've got enough strong, young bodies here to take care of this.” Anna sat down and leaned back against the building. Her eyes slowly closing.  
Jerry walked back to the front of the truck and was met with an approving nod. “I think you handled that nicely,” Roy commented. “A little brash, but nicely.”  
“Yeah,” Jerry said. “Just hurt my hand.” He rubbed at his knuckles. Quietly wondering if he broke one of them.  
“The more you do it, the less it hurts,” Roy laughed.  
“Alright,” Sue-Anne said dropping down to the ground. “Your good to go.”  
“Sue-Anne, we could really use a good shot like you. Come with us,” Roy asked.  
“You sure it isn't my feminine wiles that you're attracted to?” Sue-Anne teased. “I think I will. I got nothin' better to do anyways. My pickup is just around the corner. I'll lead you guys out of the city. I know the quickest, unbarricaded route out of here.”  
“Alright everyone. Let's load up,” Roy called walking to the back.  
“Anna, it's time to go,” William said sweetly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Anna?” He shook her a little as panic started to creep into his voice. “Anna, wake up hun!”  
Roy walked over and placed his fingers against her neck. Placing a hand on William's shoulder he whispered, “I'm sorry. She's gone.”  
“I thought she was just resting. She had been tired for some time,” William said through the tears. Sitting next to her he cradled her body to himself.  
“William,” Carl said quietly, “We have to go.”  
Jerry knelt beside him. “I know it's hard; but, we have to keep moving.”  
William looked to Jerry with a kind gaze. “We've been married for fifty-three years. Been together for fifty-seven. In all that time we never once broke up or even have a thought about divorce. I couldn't leave her then. I can't leave her now.”  
Jerry nodded slowly in understanding. Carl pulled out his revolver and held it out to William. “There are only six bullets. Make sure to save at least one,” he said. William nodded taking the revolver in his hand and waved the group away. Piling into the truck, Roy and Jerry took their usual spots in the front of the truck.  
Turning the key, the truck rumbled to life, and the group took off down the road once again. “It's nice to know that there are some things that will never change,” Jerry mentioned.  
“Like what?” Roy asked.  
“Like how hearing how long those two have been together still amazes me. Even when things like that don't matter anymore, it's still amazing.” Roy nodded. A pickup filled with guns and hundreds of bottles of liquor pulled in front of them and the pair started laughing. “I'll bet you money that's Sue-Anne.”  
“Hey boys,” Sue-Anne's voice said over the radio. “I was starting to think you weren't comin'. You like what's in the back? I raided a gun store and liquor shop before we met.”  
“Glad I didn't take that bet,” Roy commented before picking up the radio. “Nice to hear from you. How long until we're out of the city?”  
“I don't know. Never timed it,” Sue-Anne responded.  
“Well, just make sure we don't get any dead ends,” Jerry said. “We have a rather large following.” Jerry took a glance into the mirror next to him and watched the large crowd of crazies that were following the truck. “I don't know if we could run our way through something like that.”  
“I'm guessing that diesel you guys are driving is bringing them to us,” Sue-Anne commented. “That thing is loud as hell.”  
“What the hell are you doing?!” Jerry heard Beth cry from the back.  
Turning Jerry tried to see what what happening as the group was leaning out the back of the truck. “What is that crazy fucker doing on top of your truck?!” Sue-Anne blared over the radio.  
Jerry stuck his head out of the window and saw Craig climbing up the side of the truck to the roof, and in his arms he held a bundle of blankets. Jerry felt his heart literally stop for a moment when he saw a small hand reach up out of blankets toward the passing street lights. “He's got Marian!” Jerry cried.  
“We can't stop!” Roy yelled. “Go get that fucker!”  
Jerry opened the door of the truck, watching the asphalt zip underneath his feet. Stepping out onto the metal ledge that ran along the side of the truck he pulled himself from the safety of the cab to the outside. The door slammed closed after being struck by a light pole that barely missed Jerry's lean body. The wind whipped against Jerry with a loud howl in his ears. Over the screaming wind, he could hear Craig's mad rants about “falling from the path” and “sacrifice of clean blood.” Dragging himself on top of the truck he could see Carl peeking his head out of the cloth fabric that covered the sides of the truck's bed. Craig lifted Marian over his head as he screamed at the sky, trying to appeal to God who we had, apparently, offended in some fashion. “We give you this sacrifice of innocent blood to pay for our transgressions,” Craig cried as Jerry snuck up behind him. “We the harlots, and murderers. The liars, the cheats, the lustful, and adulterers. We repent of our sins, oh Lord.” Craig lifted Marian high into the air, ready to cast her to the mob of gnashing teeth and grasping hands. “Accept this – our payment – for our sins!” Jerry quickly reached up pulling Marian from Craig's hands and rushed back to the front of the truck. Handing her off to Carl, he turned and drew his pistol to take care of Craig. Before he could get a shot off, Craig barreled into him. Wrestling for the firearm, Jerry lost it and it slid over the edge of the truck, disappearing in the darkened street. “You can't interfere with what must be done! God demands sacrifice!”  
Jerry grabbed Craig's shirt and smashed his skull against Craig's face. Jerry groaned in pain with Craig as he gave himself a headache from the badly delivered headbutt. Rolling to his feet Jerry began swinging at Craig with all his might and Craig returned every punch with his own. The two dropped to the roof of the truck as they made a hard turn. Jerry propelled himself toward Craig as they came out of the turn and rolled toward the back of the truck. Landing underneath Craig again, the crazed religious nut pushed his head back over the side of the truck. In his peripheral, Jerry could see that a light pole was coming up and his head was aimed to have a very violent encounter with the wooden beam. Doing what he originally thought he could never do to another man, Jerry kicked him hard in the balls and rolled away from the edge. Jerry reeled back as his foot nearly sent him plummeting off the back of the truck when it half rested on air. A cut over his eye and his cheek bruising he squared off against Craig. Jerry began wishing that he had taken that offer to go to boxing camp when he was a kid. Weaving away from a jab, Jerry grabbed Craig by the shirt and started hammering him with his right fist until Craig could barely see. Holding him on the edge of the truck by his shirt, Jerry contemplated whether he should let him fall or not. “God demands blood! It's the only payment for our sins that he will accept!” Craig cried over the howling wind. “You have to see that this is the only way! He demands blood!”  
Jerry pulled him close. “Then yours will have to do,” he growled before shoving him back. Craig lost his footing and fell, rolling on the pavement. He cried out in horror as the mob that had been following the truck bared down on him. He limped after the truck in a desperate attempt to flee from the hungry beasts that were ready to prey on him. His fearful screams slowly faded as the truck continued on, with Jerry watching every gruesome moment of the mob surrounding and dividing handfuls of Craig to the rest of the crowd.  
Jerry crawled down into the back of the truck and took Marian from Carl, cradling her close to his chest and collapsed to the floor. He began sobbing, having nearly lost everything in his tiny world for a second time. He stared at Marian's smiling face, relieved that he had been there in time to save at least one of them. He rubbed his eyes, wiping away the tears, as Marian gave out a giggle. “Where are as supposed to go now?” Beth asked, giving Jerry the bottle that she had been feeding Marian. “That safe house was our last option.”  
“We'll just have to make our own safe house,” Carl said quietly. “We can rebuild using whatever rag tag skills that we might have that could be of use.”  
“It would have to be rather remote to avoid the crazies,” Roy said from the front.  
“I hate to be eavesdroppin',” Sue-Anne said over the radio. “You left your mic open. I got a cousin in Kansas that owns his very own missile silo. It's underground, so it's easy to defend and he's got lots of land for farming. I'm sure that he would be willing to work with us in giving us a place to live if we help grow food.”  
“You have an address?” Roy asks.  
“No, but I know that it's just outside of Great Bend. If we get there I can just guide us to his place.”  
“What you think, Jerry?” Roy asked.  
“Why are you asking me?” Jerry asked. “You're the military trained guy.”  
“Because in my book you're my partner. I don't make decisions without consulting with you.”  
Jerry looked to the rest of the group. He could see that they were tired and the loss of the safe house has devastated their morale. “All we can do is keep moving forward. Let's go for it,” Jerry responded. A small amount of hope crept back into the group's eyes. Roy punched the destination into the GPS, getting a confirmation in a feminine, robotic voice. “Let's hope that this one actually pays off.”


	3. Nothing Is As It Seems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The small group happens upon a small military outfit. At first everything seems fine. Hot food. Clean water. But with a few strange occurrences they find out that everything is not as safe as they thought.

“Do we really need to do this?” Jerry asked.

“The more supplies we have, the better off we'll be,” Roy said knocking on the door of the house. Jerry had only remarked on how a quaint little place like this must've had a nice family living in it. The paint on the display shutters was still smooth and uncracked. It even had the white picket fence that is in everyone's daydreams of the perfect house. “No answer. Let's check inside.” Roy raised his rifle and Jerry followed suit with his shotgun, their muzzles aimed at the brown door that Roy slowly pushed open. The room inside was clean and tidy. Not a thing out of place. The carpets were recently vacuumed and void of any marks from feet.

“This place is spotless,” Jerry commented as the two of them slowly moved into the room. The kitchen was the same as the first. Completely free of dirt or filth. No food encrusted plates in the sink, or empty cans of food. “Who would clean like this during the apocalypse?”

“Someone trying to hold on to some semblance of normalcy,” Roy responded. “I'll check the basement. You search the rooms.” Jerry nodded and headed down the narrow hall filled with happy family portraits.

Jerry paused by them for a moment. They reminded him of the photographs that were lining the halls of his own house in Phoenix. One was of the owners, he suppossed, on their wedding day. Him in a black tux and her in a white dress. A few of the pictures were just of a boy and girl running about a yard. One looked like the aftermath of a water fight. The pair smiling brightly and each holding a water gun. Their soaked clothing sticking to their bodies as they grinned in triumph at the camera. Jerry ran his hand on the glass that protected the picture beyond. The thought that he would never be able to take a picture like this with his own children flashed in his mind. The ache, that had become all too familiar, pained his heart once more. He moved passed the pictures to the master bedroom, in perfect order, and the kids rooms, a whirlwind of mess and toys. In the girl's room he found a small horse. It was a painted horse, like one you might find in a dollar store, with white and tan . The mane and tail was made of that fake hair and colored a dark black. He smiled thinking that Marian would love it, even if it was for someone a little older than her.

The basement was not so ordered a scene as the rest of the house gave the illusion of. Wooden shelves that lined the walls were filled with miscellaneous boxes containing decorations for different holidays. Roy paused as the light from his flashlight fell on two forms lying still in sleeping bags in the middle of the room. He slowly lowered his rifle seeing the two kids resting peacefully in their sleeping bags. The moment would have been perfect if the small hole in the side of their heads hadn't reveal the mercy killing. Roy looked at the two children, his eyes softening in pain. They were at peace. They had likely had pleasent dreams. Completley unaware that they would never wake from them. Roy found himself praying that they were still having their dreams as some form of peaceful afterlife.

A look further into the basement showed where the mother and father had gone to spend their final moments together. Lying side-by-side and holding hands. Each of them holding a small 22 caliber pistol that might be used for target practice. Roy sighed as he wondered what their last words had been to one another after they had made sure that their children were freed from this hell. What could you say to the person that you just ended the lives of your own children with?

Taking the blanket at their feet, Roy pulled it up and over their bodies and placed a tarp over the children to give them peace. He wiped the tears from his eyes and walked up the basement steps. “Anything in the basement?” Jerry asked as Roy closed the door.

“You don't want to go down there,” Roy said ushering him passed. He didn't let Jerry see his teary eyes. No one needed to know what he had seen down there.

Stepping out into the bright light of the hot Texas sun, Jerry had to shield his eyes to see their little group parked a little ways off. Beth fed Marian from the small bottle in her hands as the others sat in the shade of the truck to prevent being cooked in the heat. Dave stood on top with a pair of binoculars and scanned the area for any danger. “Anything?” Carl asked.

“Nothing of use,” Jerry answered rubbing the beading sweat from his brow.

“Hey Roy,” Dave called from the top of the truck. “I think I've got something. There's a large group of people over there. It looks like they're waiting to get on a boat.”

“You think we should check it out?” Jerry asked.

“Not with the truck. Just in case,” Roy stated. “Sue-Anne, can you drive us over so we can see what's going on?”

“No problem,” Sue-Anne said hopping into her truck. Jerry and Roy pulled themselves into the bed of the truck and shifted a few of the bottles full of liquor so that they could put their feet down. The small pick up drove them across the dry desert. The small breeze it created brought some relief to their burning heads.

“How do you want to handle this?” Jerry asked over the wind.

“Carefully,” Roy answered. “We don't know how many of them are carrying weapons. We'll assess and then figure out what to do from there. If things get hairy, jump in the truck and take off.” Jerry nodded as Roy banged his hand on the cab of the truck, signalling for Sue-Anne to stop. Roy and Jerry jumped out to the crowd in front of them.

Sitting in the river was a large tug boat. A small group of people were already shuffling about to get room on the crowded deck. The ramp to the boat was guarded by two military dressed men. Their uniforms decorated with necklaces, jewelry, and corners of cash sticking out of their pockets. The people all held something that would be considered valuable as they all looked in desperation to the men guarding the boat. “What the hell are they doing?” Jerry asked in a hushed voice.

“The current bid is three hundred dollars, a gold watch, and a pearl necklace!” the thinner of the two soldiers cried. “Can anyone outbid him?!”

“You're fucking kidding me,” Roy growled under his breath.

After a moment's pause the thinner soldier stepped to the side. “Sold!” A rather young woman walked up the ramp to the boat holding the hand of a man about the same age. “One ticket, not two.”

“What are you talking about? I paid for us to get on the ship!” he cried.

“You paid for one of you to get on the ship, and I'm sure that she will be most appreciative to you for letting her go instead of yourself,” the larger soldier said placing a hand on the man's chest and pushing him back. “In fact, she'll be even more appreciative when I allow her to suck me off to get over the grief of losing you.”

“You fucking...” The man was suddenly cut short when the larger soldier shot him between the eyes. The woman screamed as she watched the man she was with die in front of her.

“No one rides free,” the thinner soldier said. “The next ticket starts at two hundred dollars.”

People began crying out bids to get passage on the ship. Jerry felt disgusted that people were stooping to such lows in a crisis. He was about to turn to Roy only to discover that he wasn't there. Roy began a slow walk through the center of the crowd. Jerry could practically see the anger emanating from him. He stopped at the front of the crowd, looking both of the soldiers over. “Let them on,” Roy said calmly. The two military men looked to eachother in confusion before looking back to Roy. “First the kids, then the women, then the men if there's any room left.”

“The ship can only take so much weight, dumbass,” the larger soldier laughed.

“Yeah? How much do you weigh? Two-eighty?”

“Three twenty-five!” the soldier shoved his pistol into Roy's face, finger on the trigger.

Roy quickly batted the pistol away and drew his own, shooting the soldier right between the eyes, just as he had done to the man earlier. The man crumpled to the ground in a dramatic fashion, bills fluttering out of his pockets to dance about on the wind. “Three twenty-five, that's one woman and two kids.” He waved them onto the boat. Looking to the thinner soldier, Jerry could see him flinch. “Dump the luggage and anything else that isn't necessary.” The soldier nodded quickly before scurrying aboard and began to toss suitcases and bags overboard.

Roy holstered his pistol and returned to the pick-up. The crowd still waiting for a place on the ship left their luggage in the place they had dropped it, along with their possessions that seemed so valuable at the time and slowly filed onto the ship. “Let's head back,” Roy said climbing into the bed of the truck. Roy seethed in his anger as the truck rattled back toward the group.

“What happened? We heard shots,” Dave asked.

“Everything's fine,” Jerry said. Roy stormed off getting into the driver side of the truck. 

Roy knew that he wasn't in any mood to talk to people and he didn't want to snap on someone because he was having a bad day.  _First the family, now this fucking shit,_ he thought.

“Just a small mishap. Let's get going,” Jerry said to put everyone at ease. He took Marian from Beth and got up into the passenger seat with Roy.

Getting back on the road, the cab of the truck was silent save for the hum of the engine and Marian's periodic cooing at the funny faces that Jerry was making at her. “Five years ago,” Roy suddenly stated. “I was overseas in Afghanistan. I was in charge of security of an Army base, more specifically the arriving trucks that brought our supplies. During one of my checks I found a group of soldiers beating on a few of the drivers. I brought the discovery to my superiors and they laughed at me. They offered me a bribe if I would look the other way and keep my mouth shut. I refused. I was going to report them and they had me dishonorably discharged. They pinned the entire thing on me. Saying that I was the ring leader of the beatings. My wife took our kids and left. I was nearly thrown in prison for war crimes until they figured out that I had nothing to do with it. Anything I put in after all that though was seen as just me being disgruntle. I spent the last two years trying to get my wife to come back. Then this shit happened. I don't even know if they're alive.”

“I'm sorry, man,” Jerry said.

“Nothing to be sorry about. Wasn't your fault. I just can't stand by and watch men abusing their power for their own gain. Couldn't then and I can't now.” Roy was clutching the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were turning white.

Jerry nodded. “Glad to know that there are still a few people with decency.”

Roy scoffed and pulled out a beer, cracking the seal on the aluminium can with a loud hiss. “Not sure decency is something that can be afforded in this time.”

“Without your decency, I wouldn't be alive. Showing compassion is the only thing that separates humans from animals.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Do you think we should stop and give the group in the back a lesson shooting? If something had happened to you, me, Sue, or Carl none of them would know what to do.”

“I guess you're right. Next open area I see we'll stop and get some practice in.”

“How about a shooting range?” Jerry pointed to a small building that seemed to appear out of the desert like some miracle answer. A long, flat section of gravel stretched out the back to a large mound of dirt that served as a barrier that the bullets fired wouldn't continue on to strike some poor pedestrain happening to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“That'll work,” Roy said pulling off into the small parking lot.

Jerry turned around to see everyone in the back. “Roy and I are gonna clear this building. When we get back we're gonna take you guys to the range there and give you your first lesson in shooting.” Beth was about to protest but decided against it and crossed her arms. Jerry and Roy hoped out of the truck and headed to the front door. The clear glass was stencilled with BOB'S GUNS & AMMO in bold red letters.

“Hey Jerry,” Roy said. “You take point this time.”

“Take point?”

“You go first. What you said in the truck made a lot of sense. Should something happen to one of us someone else needs to be ready to take our place. I want you to clear the building this time. I'll back you up.” Jerry nodded. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He had never been point and shooting was pretty new to him still, but he had been the one to bring up the idea.

Opening the door, Jerry and Roy rushed in making a quick sweep over the room. “Looks empty. Let's check the back.” Jerry moved the way that Roy had been teaching him to clear rooms. Checking behind the counters for bodies or crazies. So far not a single sign of the dead.

“Does this feel off to you?” Roy asked in a hushed voice.

“Yeah, none of the guns are missing.” Jerry got to the door of the back room with Roy right behind him. Jerry didn't have time to try the handle. The door came down toward him with an older man gnashing his false teeth at him. Jerry quickly struck the man with the butt of his shotgun and fired a round that took off the top portion of his head. “Nicely done. You handled that perfectly. I've seen a lot of rookies freeze up when something jumps out at them like that.” Roy patted Jerry on the shoulder before the two of them checked the rest of the building. “Alright. Building is clear and we have a good three-sixty view of the area. Let's get shooting.”

Roy got everyone on line with a gun except for Beth who refused to touch one. Dragging out a bunch of ammo boxes from behind the counter, the small band of survivors began firing at the targets some distance away. The black metal cutouts would teater as a bullet struck them with a solid rung. Little by little the group's aim got better and better. Jerry sat beside Beth with a freshly made bottle. “How you holding up?” he asked.

“Not bad,” Beth responded bouncing Marian a little. “I just wish people would stop pushing me to carry a gun.”

“It's the only safe way now,” Jerry said. “But I understand your hesitation about it.” He took Marian and quietly fed her the bottle. He smiled at the sight of her in the oversized ear protectors. She had fought with having them put on, but once she got comfortable with them she didn't want them off. Jerry idly wondered if the silence the gave her helped with dealing with the world.

“I do want to carry a weapon,” Beth said quietly. “I just... I won't be able to handle hurting someone again.”

“How about this then. When they're done and everyone is gone, you and I will go out and I'll show you how to shoot. Granted I'm not the best teacher since I don't really know how to shoot myself. But I'm a little gentler than Roy is.” Beth smiled and nodded. “Well let's start with the ground rules. Always treat a gun like its loaded and don't put your finger on the trigger until you are ready to shoot.”

“Yeah, that's the one I need to work on.”

“Don't worry. If you practice then it will be like second nature.”

“Alright guys. Reload your weapons,” Roy called out.

“Hey, Roy,” Jerry said walking up. “Let's break for lunch. Beth wants me to show her how to shoot.”

“Alright. Don't give her any bad habits now,” Roy took Marian and rocked her softly to sleep at he headed to the truck.

“Alright,” Jerry said motioning for Beth to join him. He pulled out his pistol and handed it to her. “Now, check it.” Beth pulled the slide a little and saw the little brass casing in the chamber. “Alright. Keep a good grip on the pistol and aim down the sights. Take your time. This is just practice right now.”

Beth stood there, her hands started shaking making aiming impossible. “I can't do this,” she said handing the pistol back.

“Yes you can. Here,” Jerry took out the clip and removed the round in the chamber. He handed her the unloaded gun. “You know I used to be all for the gun control law. I hated guns. I was convinced that the fact that we had guns was the reason for all the crime in our country. It's only been a week and now I can't imagine not having one.” Beth took the empty pistol and held it tight.

“Did all this really change your mind?”

“Not really. But they've saved my life several times. So I can't blame the gun for the crime. Load it.” Beth took the clip and slammed it in. Pulling the slide she launched a round into the chamber. “Now take aim, and when you're ready squeeze the trigger.” Beth took a deep breath trying to steady herself. Squeezing the trigger she was almost surprised when it went off. The black cutout teatered back and a fresh silver spot appeared in the middle of the head where her bullet struck. “Wow... first time shooting and you're already doing better than me.”

Beth giggled and handed the pistol back. “I think that's enough for me today.” Jerry nodded and holstered the pistol. The pair of them walked back to the building to set up their sleeping bags.

Roy sat cataloging the new ammo that had been gathered. Jerry sat outside and watched the sun set on the Texan desert. He grimaced after sipping from the cup of coffee in his hand. Now more than ever, he wished that he had his special brewer and expensive coffee. The old fashion way of the just dropping the beans in a pot and boiling them didn't pull out the real flavors left in it. Just the bitter flavor with a hint of coffee. Setting the cup down on the step he looked up at the stars. “Nice night,” Beth said sitting next to him.

“Yep,” Jerry remarked, “You don't see these many stars in the city.”

The two of them sat in silence for a while. Just listening to the peaceful wind that blew over the dry earth. “Thanks for showing me how to shoot,” Beth said quietly. “I just don't think I could ever do it when I needed to.”

“I didn't think I'd be able to either. But when you come to the point where it's either you or them, survival instincts just kick in.”

“I just feel useless. I don't have any medical training, or that much experience in shooting.”

“I was the general manager of an advertisement company. Just what qualifications do you think I have for this?” Beth laughed at his wisecrack. “Listen, everyone might not have been prepared for this; but no one is useless in these situations. Everyone has something that can be contributed.” Jerry patted her shoulder. “Let's get some shut eye. We still have a long drive ahead of us.” Jerry flung what was left of the watered down and bitter coffee to the dry, thirsty earth. Locking the door behind him, Jerry sat down on his sleeping bag and pulled off the heavy boots. Stretching out his toes he sighed as he let them breath.

“You're gonna kill someone with those things,” Sue-Anne said covering her nose in a joking manner.

“You just remember that if you decide you wanna try to muscle me out,” Jerry commented. He massaged his aching feet, not used to spending so much time up and about.

“Ain't gonna be any musclin'. Let me ask you somethin'. With everything that's been happenin', you still manage to hold yourself together. How do you do it?”

Jerry looked to Marian, who was sleeping soundly in his sleeping bag still wearing the oversized ear protection. “I found a reason to stay alive.”

“Must be nice. Wish I had somethin' like that.” Sue-Anne turned over and pulled the sleeping bag over her head. A moment later a soft snore came from the bag and would return in a long and steady rhythm.

“Some people can sleep in anything,” Roy said coming around the counter. “We got a lot more ammo from the store and several good guns and a few cheapy ones that we can give away.”

“Sounds like a plan. We doing a watch rotation or anything?” Jerry asked through a yawn.

“Doors closed on all sides, even doors that are between us and the outside doors. I think we're good to just rest for the night.” Roy patted Jerry on the shoulder before heading over to his sleeping mat.

Slipping into the sleeping bag with Marian he cradled her to his chest so that she would stay warm throughout the night. Gently placing a kiss on her head he wished her sweet dreams and happiness.

 

_______________________________________________________________________

 

The morning light shone through the open windows into the small store. Roy gently shook Jerry's shoulder trying to wake him. “Don't make a sound,” Roy said pointing to the front of the store. The drowsiness in his eyes all at once vanished as he saw the mass of bodies outside the windows. At the moment they just shuffled about in front of the shop not really seeming to notice the small group of people inside. “Help me get everyone up.”

Jerry nodded and moved slowly from one sleeping body to the next with the still sleeping Marian in his free hand. Getting to Beth he gently shook her shoulder. Rolling over, she opened her eyes to the mass of zombies that were lurking outside of the windows and started to let out a high-pitched scream. Jerry slapped his hand over her mouth and prayed that the small amount that had slipped through didn't alert the violent bodies outside. The entire room was silent as they waited for the inevitable; but, it never came. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and moved back behind the counter. “What do we do now?” Greg asked in a whisper.

“There's a ladder to the roof in the back area. We'll take them out from above,” Roy said.

“Can't we just slip out the back and get the hell out of here?” Dave asked.

“All of our shit is in the truck that they're collected around. This is our best course of action.”

“How did those fuckers even know we were here?” Sue-Anne cursed.

“They were probably drawn to the sound of gunfire from practice yesterday.” Roy pushed open the door to the roof and pulled himself up. He took a quick peek over the side of the building and quickly counted. “There's at least fifty of them down there,” Roy whispered. “Anyone got any ideas?”

“Don't those things bring up oil?” Sue-Anne asked pointing to a large spire in the middle of the desert.

“Yeah, but we aren't needing to get an oil change,” Roy retorted.

“No, but oil is flammable. All we need to do is lure the zombies over to those tanks and then blow those fuckers to kingdom come.”

“It might just work,” Jerry said.

“Yeah, except for one problem. How do we lure them? The only thing they react to is noise and...” Roy was cut off by the abyssal yowl of the zombies below, “... us. Now that they know we're here they aren't gonna just go away.” The zombies below grasped at the air trying to reach the food that was just beyond their reach. Cracked fingernails dragged along the rough walls of the store in a desperate attempt to climb up.

“We could run it,” Greg said. “It's only about three or four hundred yards. I ran farther than that in cross country.”

“Are you fucking crazy?!” Roy yelled at him

“No he's right,” Jerry said. Roy turned to him like they had both lost their minds and he wasn't the only one giving them that look. “Our only shot is to draw them away so that you guys can get in the truck. But you aren't going alone.” Jerry pulled the sling of the shotgun off his shoulder and held it out to Roy.

“This is suicide!” Roy said tearing the shotgun out of Jerry's hand. “You guys will never make it!”

“It may be suicide. I'd like to think of it more like sacrifice if we die,” Greg said stretching his legs a little. “God, I hope I still got the legs for this. Young and spry fucker like you got a better chance at this than me.”

“Don't talk like that,” Jerry said playfully punching Greg in the arm. “I plan on getting you a beer after this.”

“Alright,” Sue-Anne said pulling her rifle off her shoulder. “I'll wait for you guys to get about halfway back before I blow it.”

Greg walked to the side of the building that was facing the range and smiled. “Looks like we're in luck. There's a shed down there that we can drop onto before hitting the dirt,” Greg said swinging a leg over the wall. “At least we won't break out legs.”

Jerry walked to Beth and handed Marian to her. Rubbing Marian's cheek gently, he placed a kiss on her small forehead. “If anything happens...”

“Don't,” Beth interrupted sharply. “I've lost enough friends already.”

“Take care of her for me until I get back then,” Jerry said before working his way over the wall. Dropping down onto shed the pair of runners quietly headed around to get a head start. Drawing his pistol he fired twice into the small crowd. The first bullet caught a man in the remains of a mechanic's overalls in the shoulder, staining the hole with a small tinge of crimson. The second passed through the ear of an older woman. She looked like she was in her eighties at least, but she was jumping up and down like a cheerleader before the bullet passed through her head and she dropped to the dirt.

They let out a ravenous screech and charged after Jerry and Greg. “That got their attention.” Greg commented as the two of them bolted. Jerry and Greg ran neck-an-neck down the flat plain, the wind carrying them toward the large wooden tower that gave out a clockwork clunk every few seconds. The gnashing teeth and excited screeches spurred Jerry's feet faster and faster until it felt like he wasn't even touching the ground anymore. He heart thundering in his chest and his lungs burning in their demand for more air as he started the turn to move around the churning spire.

Jerry smiled as it seemed that their plan was working. His legs burned and the stitch in his side was slowly growing. “Fuck! My ankle!” Jerry heard from behind him. He looked back and saw Greg face down in the dirt and scrambling to get to his feet again.

“Come on!” Jerry called raising his pistol and firing at the ones closest to Greg.

“Oh my God,” Sue-Anne said looking through her scope. “They're right on top of Greg!” Jerry kept firing, but he couldn't keep the zombies from grabbing Greg and dragging him back to feast on him. His screams could be heard all the way back at the gun shop. He pulled out his pistol and fired in every direction trying to get them off of him. Jerry loaded another clip into his pistol and noticed that those that weren't able to get a bite of Greg were noticing him as an easy alternative. With a frustrated yell he took off again trying to outrun the relentless zombies.

“For fucks sake blow it already!” Roy roared.

“I can't! I'll kill Greg!” Sue-Anne said.

“If you don't blow it now then his death will mean nothing!” Dave yelled.

“I can't!” Sue-Anne cried.

Jerry felt like a weight was pressing down on his chest preventing him from getting a full breath. Glancing over his shoulder, he could see that the zombies were catching up. The first in line was a woman dressed in a jogging outfit. Normally the sight of the extremely short shorts and tight tank top would have made him take a second look, but the look of rage and hunger that filled the woman's mostly torn off face made him try to will his feet faster. Jerry was sure that at any moment he would feel those teeth biting into his neck and pull him down to be devoured by the horde behind him.

He cried out and held his ear as something bit him. Blood dripping from his ear, the jogger woman's head was flung back by something that struck her forehead. Her body arched back before sprawling out on the ground where she remained, the few runners behind her trampling over her unmoving corpse.

Roy pulled back the bolt of the rifle that he had ripped from Sue-Anne's hands. “Beth, try to quiet Marian down,” he said as he took aim on the tanks next to the wooden tower and squeezed the trigger.

Jerry heard the shot that flew passed him., but felt the explosion thunder over him, like someone slammed into him with a brick wall from behind. He suddenly had the sensation of flying and watched the ground pass underneath him toward the burning mushroom cloud and debris that was blown out into the surrounding area. A few bodies shambled about completely engulfed in flames. Jerry rolled to his side and sat on his knees trying to get his breath back. He tenderly touched the small cut that was on edge of his ear. A small trickle of blood dripped from his nose to the dry earth beneath him and a small cut was on his hip from where he landed. Overall he was in pretty good shape for out running an explosion, like he were some sort of action star.

Sue-Anne and Roy came up in the pick-up and skidded to a halt next to him. “You alright?!” Roy called out. Jerry could only faintly hear him, like he was talking from a long distance away. The ringing in his ears was muffling everything he heard.

“Yeah I'm fine,” Jerry said picking himself up with a wince. “A little close to my head there weren't you Sue-Anne?”

“Actually, I didn't shoot,” Sue-Anne admitted. “Roy took out the one behind you and the tanks.”

“Here isn't the place to discuss it. Get in.” Roy waved Jerry into the truck as he watched the torched bodies slowly making their way toward them and trying to fight the flames. Getting back on the road, Roy was once again behind the wheel of the military truck and Jerry in the passenger seat.

“Hey guys,” Sue-Anne called over the radio. “I got some movement up here. Looks like military vehicles.”

“Carl you remember me showing you how to use the fifty cal?” Roy called through the window.

“Yeah, I recall it,” Carl responded.

“Time to put it to use.” Carl crawled his way out to the machine gun turret and aimed it ahead of him. “Let's hope that it isn't a group of criminals.” Jerry agreed. They may have had the firepower, but not the man power. As it stood, losing just one of their group would be devastating.

The military convoy came into view. Three Humvees driving in a single file line toward them. Coming to a stop in the road, Roy stepped out with his rifle in hand. The convoy pulled off to the side and two men stepped out of the leading Humvee. “We saw the explosion and came to check it out. Is everyone alright?” the driver asked.

“We're fine. Just took care of a few zombies is all,” Roy responded.

“Good to see some able bodied people still alive in this God forsaken world,” one of the men said.

“You're dressed as civilians. Where are you coming from?” Roy asked.

“We're from a small installation that we put together. Our leader has been sending us out to find survivors and bring them back. We can provide shelter and food for you and your group.”

“What's the catch?”

“No catch. Follow us and we'll take you to meet him.”

“Hold on a sec.” Roy strode back to the truck. “Don't take the gun off them,” he said to Carl. Jumping into the driver seat he sighed looking at the small convoy.

“What do you think?” Jerry asked.

“I don't like it. No one just provides food and shelter for free. They're kind of an important resource.”

“But we can't stay out here,” Beth said. “Especially with Marian. She's gonna need a stable place to sleep and grow up.”

Roy looked to Jerry, waiting for his voice on the matter. “I think that we should at least check it out,” Jerry said. “We don't exactly have a lot of options at the moment. If it seems like a place that we can temporarily stay at until we get our barring then maybe we should take it.”

“Alright,” Roy said nodding. Pushing the door open he stepped out. “Take us to your installation. When we get there we'll decide if we're gonna stay.”

The two men jumped back into their Humvee and quickly turned the convoy around. “I take it that we're going with these shady characters,” Sue-Anne stated over the radio.

“Just for now,” Jerry replied. “We'll probably still head to your relative's place; but it wouldn't hurt to have a chance to rest for a bit.”

Driving nearly the whole day brought them to a large collection of shed-like buildings surrounded by a well lit chain-link fence. “This is pretty familiar,” Roy commented as he noticed the small groups of individuals that were marching around the installation. “This reminds me of boot camp.”

“Reminds me of a war film,” Jerry responded.

“We sure about this?” Beth asked, concerned.

“Are we sure of anything?” Roy replied. Stopping at the gate, the guards on either side waved the convoy thorough. “When we get out, make sure that the amount of weapons, ammo, and food stays hidden. I don't want these guys trying to jump us.”

Beth nodded and took Marian as Dave quickly started covering the crates of firearms in blankets and tarps. Roy brought the truck to a stop just inside the gate. Jerry and Roy stepped out and were greeted by a middle age man wearing a military vest. He gave the company a wide smile and extended his hand. “Good to see that there are still people with enough common sense to survive in these trying times. Are you hungry? We just finished with midday chow, but I'm sure that there is enough left over for you.”

“We're fine thanks,” Roy said.

“Gentlemen, I understand that you may be reluctant to do this but I must ask that you relinquish your weapons.”

“Why?” Jerry asked.

“We only allow the guards bordering the fence to have firearms. It ensures security and removes the temptation of anyone trying to use it for a hostage situation or the like.” 

“If you don't mind, I think that we'll just secure them in our vehicle,” Roy said.

“As you wish. I have to say that I haven't seen one of these come through yet. Where did you get it?”

“Military base in Yuma,” Jerry said. “Unfortunately it was the only thing that we were able to find.”

“That's the world we live in now. Well, welcome to Haven. If you have any injuries you can see our field medic, Trisha.”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Jerry replied. Setting their weapons in their vehicle. The small group gathered around the fire for bowls of stew. “I'm surprised that they managed to get enough to feed everyone here.”

“Food isn't scarce yet. When it does though, people will panic,” Roy commented. “It looks like everything is in order here. Almost like a military base.”

“Did you see how that guy was dressed?” Beth asked. “I'd bet he was military.”

“Yeah, doesn't anyone think that something is off?” Carl asked.

“What do you mean? This place is great,” Beth said.

“I don't know. Just off.” Carl rubbed the back of his neck trying to figure out what made the hairs stand on end when he looked about.

“I'm gonna have a look around the camp. See where everything is,” Jerry said walking off in the direction of several large tents. Inside there were rows of cots set up with men strapped down. A woman walked between the cots giving the wounded water and checking their bandages. “Excuse me,” Jerry called. “Are you Trisha?”

The woman stopped and turned to him. “How can I help?” she asked. Dark black hair cradled her pale visage and storm gray eyes watched him with a hint of fear.

“I was wondering if you could take a look at a cut. I don't want it to become infected,” Jerry said lifting up his shirt showing her the small cut that ran across his hip.

“How did you get it?” Trisha asked.

“I'm a little clumsy.” Jerry smiled and noted that she didn't return it. She ran her fingers over the cut and nodded standing up.

“It would appear that you have prevented an infection by keeping it covered with your shirt. I don't see any redness or swelling. Have you been feverish or had any chills?”

“No, nothing like that. Been pretty healthy, considering what's been happening. That and I only got it earlier today.”

“Then just keep an eye on it, and if you develop a fever come see me.” Trisha quickly hurried away to another patient.

_I guess she doesn't like new people_ , Jerry thought. Stepping back out he noted where the dining pavilion, main hall, and captain's quarters. Walking up to Roy he spoke in a hushed voice. “Do you find it weird that they have their wounded close to the fence instead of in the center of the installation for protection.”

“Everyone has their reasons. They might feel that having them near the fence means that they are easier to dispose of should they die,” Roy explained. “The set up shouldn't worry you. It's the procedures that you have to give careful thought to.”

“What do you think about all of this?”

“I think that we should stay a couple of days. See how things work around here and then make a decision on whether to move on or not.”

“Excuse me gentlemen,” a rather well built man said. “We are getting together a group for a supply raid. The general wants to know if you're interested in joining us.”

“Where's it to?” Roy asked.

“There's a CDC camp a little to the East of here. We're gonna try to collect medicine and supplies for our field medic.”

Roy nodded. “Sign us up.”

“I'll go too,” Carl said waving from the truck.

“We leave at O'four hundred. Make sure that you're ready.” The soldier walked away to inform a few other people dressed in similar clothes.

“I think I see what Carl was talking about,” Roy commented.

“What are you talking about?” Jerry asked.

“How many women do you see?” Jerry looked about and couldn't place a single one. Men sat around the fire laughing a crude jokes. Men passed out food and uniforms. “I haven't seen a single woman in this camp so far.”

“Their medic is a woman,” Jerry said. “But I see what you're saying. Why do you think that is?”

“If I had to guess, they probably just haven't found many yet either because they're hidden away or dead. We should get our gear ready and try to rest. Four in the morning is really early.”

The two of them took a place with their group in the back of the truck. Jerry held Marian close to him to keep her warm on the cool night. Jerry looked from her peace-filled face to the small group that had become a family over their week of travel. “You asleep?” Beth whispered.

“Not yet,” Jerry answered in a hushed voice.

“I can't sleep.”

“Sleeping in a new place?”

“No. Nightmares.”

Jerry sighed. “I know what you mean. I don't want to sleep myself.”

“How do you do it?”

“I keep reminding myself that I'm asleep. I hold Marian to try to make me feel better.”

“I wish I had something like that.” Beth huddled with her blanket staring off into space. 

That was the second time jerry had heard that. He never really thought about how everyone else was doing. Looking down to Marian's sleeping face just filled him with hope and he didn't feeling like sharing it, like it would somehow diminish if everyone got a little hope from her. Jerry sat up and gently set Marian into Beth's arms. “She has a way of making things all better,”he whispered. Beth smiled and cradled Marian close to her chest and quickly fell asleep. Jerry watched them, reminded of his family from before. He stood up feeling his bladder demand relief, and carefully stepped over the sleeping bodies that blocked his way to the truck exit. Standing by the truck he stared at the stars as he relieved himself.

“Beautiful night,” the general said, sneaking up on Jerry. Jerry quickly finished up and put everything away before turning to him. “Don't worry. Not gonna get onto you for relieving yourself. If you gotta go, you gotta go.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I'm rather curious why you haven't shared what you have in your truck with the rest of us.”

“We aren't sure if we're going to stay. We would rather not make things more difficult than it needs to be.”

The general nodded before heading toward the middle of the camp. The look on his face was obvious that he didn't like Jerry's answer. “We'll be leaving in half an hour. You should start getting ready.”

The way that the general looked over the truck made Jerry suspicious. It seemed to be an almost hungry look, like a little kid staring at his presents under a christmas tree and trying to wait to open them. “He can be a little strange sometimes,” a feminine voice said. Jerry turned and saw Trisha standing there wrapped up in a blanket. “His requests can be odd at times but everything that he has told us to do has kept us safe.”

To Jerry, it sounded like what she was saying wasn't to explain anything to him, but to convince herself that what she was saying was true. “What kind of odd requests has he asked of you?”

Trisha shook her head. “Just be careful. I don't want to see another person turn into one of those things in front of me again.” Trisha walked off to a small tent.

Jerry noted that he could see the bare bottom of her foot as she walked away from him. In a place where rocks jutted out every few feet, it didn't seem like a smart idea. Pushing the thought away, he walked up into the truck and carefully nudged Roy's foot to wake him and Carl. The trio gathered their gear and grouped up with the rest of the company. “Alright, we're gonna do this like we always do. Three squads,” the general commanded. “Squad one will be in charge of perimeter security. Squad two will be in charge of clearing out the camp. Squad three with be in charge of gathering supplies.”

The company broke up and headed to three separate trucks. “Hey guys. I'm Dalton,” a young soldier said. “The general wants you guys with squad three. So, you'll be riding with me.”

 

_______________________________________________________________________

 

“Why would they use such a small town for a CDC place?” Jerry asked. The temporary buildings still stood in the burning weather.

“I'm guessing that they spaced them out geographically, so that people didn't have to travel far for help,” Roy answered.

“Just to give you guys a run down of how things work,” Dalton explained. “Squad two moves through the compound removing any threats. We move in after them gathering anything and everything that might be of use. Medication, vaccines, first aid supplies, everything.”

“Seems simple enough,” Jerry commented.

“You'd be surprised how often people fuck it up,” Dalton answered before walking off.

“He's right,” Roy said. “The simplest orders often get screwed up the most.”

“I'll try to remember that,” Jerry said checking that his shotgun was loaded.

Roy and Jerry watched as the squad of ten moved through the camp. When the gun fire stopped a red flare shot up like a rocket into the air. “That's the signal boys. Let's move in.”

Moving passed the outside perimeter, Roy and Jerry split off and headed into one of the temporary chilling units. “I'll bet there are some damn good medications in here,” Roy said looking through the collection of tiny glass bottles. “Must be good. I can't pronounce any of this shit.”

Jerry chuckled as he searched a large crate for its name. Picking up a clipboard that was resting on an unopened crate, he began flipping through the pages. “This is that rabies vaccine that they were giving out,” Jerry said. He remembered the woman on the news reporting story on his small televsion on the counter like it was a lifetime ago.

“Why do they need ten crates of that stuff?” Roy asked.

Jerry quickly flipped through the pages. “They thought that mass producing it and giving it to the public would decrease the mass hysteria.”

“So they were hoping for a placebo effect?”

“Looks like it. From this report they were supposed to give out the vaccine for free and to say that it would make them immune to make the public feel safe.”

“A lot of fucking good it did.” Roy stormed off and started shoving the glass bottles into a bag to bring with him.

Jerry stood there a moment looking over the paperwork. “Roy,” Jerry said, his voice shaking. “What if the vaccine is the reason for what's going on?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The day of the outbreak. I remember a news story about mass murder and violence over in Africa. My wife told me that they were sending a new rabies vaccine there and making it part of routine procedure when entering and leaving the country.”

“If they did that, it would take no time at all for it spread across the globe.”

“I think the rabies vaccine is the virus. Listen to these side effects. Increases in agitation and aggression. Possibility of insomnia. In some cases confusion and delirium. Wasn't Pat seeing things before he died?”

“Yeah. That's something that can happen when your delirious.” Roy stared at Jerry in horror as the evidence slowly began to build up. “Alright, let's humor this idea for a bit. A vaccine is just a dead virus used to force the body to develop an immunity, right?” Jerry nodded as he set the clipboard down. “The symptoms for rabies are insomnia, confusion, aggression, salivation from lack of water, delirium.”

“You just described the side effects of the vaccine.”

“Hold on, I'm not done. Then compare that to the crazies. They line up pretty close. On top of that, it seems that means of transmission is through bites. Just like with rabies.”

“My God,” Jerry leaned against the nearby desk as he felt the room spinning. “How do we fight against this? Rabies is incurable.”

“No; but two percent of the world is immune to rabies.”

“So what, we just test ourselves to see if rabies effects us?”

“I think evolution takes over from here. The trait that brings about survival of the species is the one that continues. As long as the immune are kept alive there will be a chance at survival, and even without immunity the only way to be turned into one of the crazies is to be bitten. We just need to avoid it and take them out as we go.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Jerry began shoveling medicine and bandages in a bag. He paused a moment by the clipboard and, with a shake of his head, swiped the pages off of the clipboard and stuffed them into his shirt and left to regroup at the trucks.

A massive pile of bags sat by the trucks that were filled to the brim with medicine and food. “Well done everyone,” the general cried. “This haul should last us the rest of the month. Let's head back.”

Jerry and Roy dropped their gear and spoils into the truck before they felt a hand tapping them on the shoulder. Carl stood there looking about nervously and waving them over to a secluded spot. “Guys, I just saw something weird,” Carl said.

“What's up?” Roy asked.

“I just saw a small group of people loading up crazies into the back of an armored truck.”

“Why the hell would they need a group of crazies?” Jerry asked.

“Maybe they're doing research on them,” Roy said. “All I know is that these crazies are sounding more like zombies every minute. That vaccine thing sounds like something straight out of Resident Evil, man.”

“Vaccine?” Carl asked.

“We'll tell you on the way back.” Roy headed back to the truck and pulled himself in to help Jerry and Carl. Jerry pulled out that papers that explained the new vaccine and their belief that it may have been the cause for their current situation.

“I think I'm gonna be sick,” Carl said quietly.

“We felt the same way,” Roy said patting his back. “We're all feeling it.”

“So they really are zombies. But that doesn't explain the truck. If they were wanting to catch them for research, then why are they being so secretive about it?”

“It does seem rather suspicious,” Roy said, “but it isn't enough for us to go accusing them of something. I will try talking to the general.” Pulling into the compound the trio jumped out and left their bags with the pile to be sorted and sent to different parts of the camp. The rest of the day was spent lazing about, and that night they celebrated the successful raid and surviving another day.

Carl, however, was not satisfied with leaving things to rest. He wanted to know what was going on. Sneaking away from the celebration, he searched the small town for the armored truck. He searched the entire compound and couldn't find it anywhere. He sighed as he leaned against a tarp covered wall. Maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Maybe everything was just as legit as it see....

He jumped away from the wall when he heard something heavy slam up against the other side of it. The wind picked up a little and fluttered the edges of the tarp revealing wheels. Before he could do anything else, Carl heard voices headed toward him. Pulling the tarp up he shuffled under the truck to avoid being seen. “Can you believe we got three of these zombie bitches?” one man said.

“I know,” said another, “I bet these sluts are even more horny now than when they were alive.” The group laughed as the pulled the tarp away and started to unlock the doors to the back of the truck. “Alright David, open it.” The doors opened, and that God awful shriek sounded until a loud zap silenced it. “I can't believe these tazers work. Make sure to bind their arms and legs really good.” One by one Carl watched them drag twitching bodies out of the truck and into the building next to it.

Carl crawled out from under the truck when they were all gone and snuck around to one of the dust covered windows. Peeking in he could see several of the men having tied one of the zombie women down and violating them for their own twisted pleasure. “These zombie bitches aren't good as the real ones. They don't fuck back,” one man said.

“Yeah,” another agreed. “But you gonna try to pry one of them from squad one?”

“Are you fucking nuts?! The last guy that tried that was shot in the leg and left in the middle of zombie territory!”

Carl shook his head at the disgusting sight in front of him and moved on to the next window. The scene in the next room was even more disturbing than the first. Four women dressed up in slightly torn and blood stained dresses struggled like animals to free themselves from the chairs they were bound to. Make-up had been put on in a hasty fashion that it smeared all over their faces. Blood drooled from their mouths from the meal they were being fed - from the general. “I know that you're hungry my pretties, but if you eat too fast you'll ruin your make-up,” he said. “I'm so glad that we could all find the time to sit down to a family dinner. So Jean, how is your school?” The teenage girl that he was talking to only screamed and thrashed about. “I'm glad to see that your math is getting better.” The woman next to him thrashed about enough that her arm came free. She lunged out for him with desperate fingers to grab hold of the flesh in front of her. She fell to the floor thrashing about once again as the general's face changed from warm patriarch to villainous hate. Grabbing a machete resting by his chair, he cleaved the woman's head in two. Rolling her body over he took his knife and slowly started to cut away at the lids of her right eye. Pushing his fingers into the socket, he popped out her eye, with a horrible;y wet squelch, and tore it from its optic nerve. Placing a jar on the table he unscrewed the lid and dropped the eye in letting it float down to join the collection of eyes that had already been inside.

Carl covered his mouth and felt his stomach heave. Sitting down by the wall he swallowed the taste of bile in the back of this throat and made a run for truck that he came in on. Skidding to a stop at the entrance to the back, the small group that had been getting ready to head to bed turned and stared at him. “You're never going to believe what I just saw,” Carl gasped.

 

_______________________________________________________________________

 

“He what?” Beth asked in an urgent tone.

“He cut out her eye and put it in a jar filled with other eyes,” Carl repeated. “We have got to get out of here. The general is insane!”

“Let's not jump to conclusions,” Roy said gently.

“Guys fucking zombie girls. General having a tea party with a zombie family. Just what conclusions are we not supposed to be making here?” Dave retorted.

“We'll leave. Tonight,” Jerry said quickly. “I don't think that this is going to stay quiet, and the way he looks at this truck makes me think that he's planning on getting rid of us.”

Roy nodded. “Alright, everyone get your things ready,” Roy said.

Jerry sighed and stood up. “Where you going?” Roy asked.

“I'm gonna get an explanation as to what's going on here,” Jerry said heading for the medical tent. Stepping through the fabric door he quickly spied Trisha giving water to a man that had a bandage covering both of his eyes. “Trisha, can I have a word with you?”

Trisha seemed to jump a little but nodded and told the man she was helping that she would be back. Leading her to a little more private spot he grabbed her arm and pulled her out of sight. “Do whatever you want, just do it quickly,” she said looking away from him.

“What are you talking about?” Jerry asked. He had been ready to start the whole 'tell me what I want to know or I'll kill you' speech, but her reaction had stopped him in his tracks.

“You're just like all of them. You see a woman you wanna fuck and you just bend her over and take advantage of it.”

“I'm not here to have sex with you. I need to know what the fuck is going on around here,” he said letting go of her arm. Trisha looked at him confused that he wasn't going to do anything to her. “One of my group saw the soldiers capturing zombies during the raid. He did some digging and saw the men tying them down, having sex with them, and to top it all off, he sees the general having dinner with four of them that were dressed up and covered in make-up.”

Trisha's shoulders dropped and she let out a long sigh. “Alright. The general orders his men to capture a few of the female zombies when the ones that were captured previously have been all 'used up'. He chooses a few and keeps them as his family until he gets tired of or one of them breaks the fantasy and kills them. He has me put make-up on them and dress them up so that they don't seem so zombie-like.”

“What else is going on around here? You can't tell me that the zombie thing is the only thing strange going on.”

“I'm one of only three women in the camp. Every week the three squads compete to see who owns us for that week. He says that for us to be allowed to stay that we have to assist the soldiers with their 'frustrations' whenever called. If we don't then we'll be turned out and left to die on the outside. But it doesn't matter. Even if we say we'll take our chances outside they just tie us up and violate us anyway.”

Jerry felt his heart breaking for this woman. She had already been through enough and this was just kicking while she was down. “We're leaving tonight. I only ask that you don't tell anyone about this.”

“You can't. The general won't let anyone leave. He's too paranoid to allow it.”

“I think we have enough fire power to take care of it.”

Jerry turned and started out of the tent when he felt Trisha grab his arm. “Take me with you!” She said in a hushed voice, desperately gripping his shirt. “Please... Please take me with you. I can't live like this anymore.”

Jerry chewed his cheek not sure if taking on another person was really a good idea; but seeing her face and the distress that was painted on it he couldn't tell her no. “Gather your things and meet us by the truck.”

“I don't have anything worth getting.”

“What about the other women?”

“They would rather stay here as sex slaves than live with dignity. They won't leave.” Jerry took her hand and rushed her toward the truck.

Roy already had everyone armed and ready for a dog fight when Jerry made it back to the truck with Trisha. “What's this?” Roy asked seeing Trisha.

“She wants to leave with us. There's more going on, but I don't have time to explain,” Jerry said quickly. Roy nodded, completely trusting his judgement.

“The guards will be switching out in about fifteen minutes. That's when we should make a break for it,” Trisha said.

“Alright. Jerry you drive the truck through the gate. I'll get it open for you to pass through,” Roy said as he watched the guards in the towers above the gate. The minutes that ticked by seemed to last for hours. When the guards in the towers began the climb down the rickety ladder to the ground, the small group held their breath hoping that they wouldn't be spotted by them. Once out of sight, Jerry started up the truck and Roy ran to the gate. Throwing his shoulder against it, Roy began to slowly push the gate open. Jerry pulled through the gate and smiled as they seemed to have gotten away with it. When the spotlight was shot right into his eyes, Jerry slammed on the breaks and saw a small platoon of soldiers waiting for them to make a break for it. Several trucks and cars created a sort of blockade from leaving on the main road. Men with rifles sat behind their vehicles with their firearms aimed to fire on the truck and anyone inside.

“I have to say that I'm a little disappointed in you people,” the general said stepping in front of the spot light. “I open up my compound to you and you feel that you have to sneak out.”

“We don't want any trouble,” Roy said.

“Neither do we, and we won't have one. Just leave your truck and everything in it here and you can be on your way.”

“We earned this truck and all the supplies in it. We risked our lives to get it and we aren't going to give up for anyone.”

“What about the survival of my soldiers? What about the people that are looking to me to protect them? No. If I let you go, you'll just bring more of your scheming cockroaches to take what's ours. We can't let you leave without putting ourselves in danger. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but an attack will come because you want what we have. You want our food, our medicine, our women! Well you can't have them! You can have the bullets from our guns and you can have our...”

His speech was suddenly cut short in a hail of gunfire. Without anyone noticing, Trisha had made her way up onto the fifty cal and sent the first twenty rounds through the general's chest before turning the flurry of flying lead onto the rest of the army. Carl and Dave pointed rifles out the side of the truck and riddled the nearby cars with bullets until the rifles were empty. Handing them off to the people in the back they took the freshly loaded weapons and fired away. Roy jumped onto the side of the truck screaming, “Go! Go!” Jerry floored the gas and battered his way through the small blockade that had been set up. They left behind them a trail of bodies and bullet riddle vehicles. Jerry wondered for a bit if the town would even survive now that its tyrant had been dethroned. Jerry could only vaguely hear Roy talking to him. “Jerry! Pull over!” Roy cried. Jerry complied and stepped out of the truck, prying his hands from the steering wheel.

“That was one hell of a ride,” Sue-Anne said pulling her pick-up beside the truck. “Runnin' with you fellers has been one exciting moment after another.” The rest of the group slowly made their way out of the truck with the others.

“I'd prefer to keep the excitement to a minimum if possible,” Roy commented. “Alright, let's get the basics out of the way. Anyone hurt?” Everyone shook their heads. “We were very lucky to get out of there without a scratch. The truck is still in one piece and we have enough supplies to last all of us for a few months. I say we continue on to Sue-Anne's relative's as it's the only thing we have to go on right now.”

The small group nodded in agreement before filing into the back of the truck once again. Jerry sat in the back, feeding a bottle to Marian. He prayed that she wouldn't remember any of these horrible times. Trisha sat down in the corner, rubbing her arms, and tried to work passed everything that she had gone through to survive while at the compound. “Every night they would take turns using us and there were never just one at a time. They came in groups. All demanding that their 'frustrations' be dealt with. Every last one of them deserved to die for what they did to us.”

“You don't have to worry about that from us,” Dave said taking her hand. “We aren't like that. If anything we make sure to respect one another. Roy and Jerry here make sure that everyone is taken care of.” As much as Trisha was wanting that to make her feel better, it didn't. The only thing that actually allowed her to relax enough to fall asleep was Beth putting her arm around her shoulder.

The hum of the engine became a droning noise that slowly put the rest of the group to sleep. Beth sat, watching Marian and Jerry. “Ya'know it's funny. I wanted to be a counsellor. I read every book you could think of to try to get ready for it. My dad used to say that I already knew everything there was to know about counseling. I shouldn't need to go to college for it. Ever since I was a little girl all I wanted to do was help people. Turns out that it's something that I can use.”

“I think that it's great. Maybe when we find a place to stop we can find you a little fainting couch so that people can tell you about their problems,” Jerry said laughing. Beth tried her best to hold her laugh in so that she didn't wake up Trisha. “Seriously though, I think everyone here would benefit from a little counselling. Did you read anything on trauma or disaster?”

“I'm afraid not. Most of what I read was on family counseling and divorce. Maybe we should raid a book store.”

“Maybe we should.” The two of them smiled.

“Do you really think that this is place is going to work?” Beth looked to him searching for some kind of hope.

“I think that we won't know until we get there. Then again, sometimes you just need something to go for. Something to believe is real to keep you going.”

“I think so too. Even if it's a long shot.” Beth smiled and shifted a little, getting comfortable against the large crates behind her.


End file.
